


Starlight

by SilverExorcist



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Akechi never got a persona, Akira thirsty af, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dance AU no one asked for, Dance Instructor Akechi Goro, First Fanfiction, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, No Yaldabaoth, Past Child Abuse, Phantom Thieves continue their work in the metaverse, Please be gentle, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unwanted Sexual Advances, Very slight Royal spoilers, college students, dance au, mentions of sexual abuse, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:02:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 76,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25193620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverExorcist/pseuds/SilverExorcist
Summary: “Eat a light lunch, comfortable workout clothes, and lots of water. Right?”“Correct, but I would also recommend wearing a tank top instead of a tee shirt,” Akechi adds. “I’ll be teaching you how to waack, as I’ve said before, and it focuses on arm movements. It’ll be easier for me to watch every minute detail you make if you wear one and it’ll also help with the chafing.”“If you wanted an excuse for me to show more skin, you should have just said so. I’d gladly comply in a heartbeat.”“As if I have to ask since you’ll take any excuse to show more skin regardless of me asking for it,” Akechi jibes back.Fives years after awakening to his persona, Akira and crew find themselves in a palace unlike anything they have faced before. Needing to dance their way through the palace to steal the treasure, they desperately need an instructor to teach them how. The fact that their instructor was incredibly hot didn't play a factor at all.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 101
Kudos: 247
Collections: Marigolds Discord Recs, Quality Persona Fics





	1. May 1st

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not an expert on dancing styles or cultural significance. I have spent hours researching, but I apologize if I get anything wrong. Please let me know in the comments below.

“Augh! This is impossible! What the hell are we even supposed to do?”

Akira could not help but silently agree as he moves around LeBlanc’s kitchen area, preparing coffee for his group of friends and a cup of juice for Ryuji. Their latest palace crawl had been nothing short of a disaster and the Phantom Thieves were mentally exhausted. They found, shortly after entering the palace, that it was radically different from anything they have ever faced before. Five years of palace crawling and changing hearts never had anything close to the unique way this palace operated.

It had been fairly standard procedure with finding their latest target. A big-time dance studio director had been rumored to be sexually harassing and assaulting his students. After plugging his name into the nav, the Phantom Thieves had found out he had a palace. Getting his other two code words were a piece of cake, and in they went when they all had a day off of school and work. However, the director’s palace had been anything but normal when they walked in and found a concert stage with hundreds of shadows watching their every move. The smug bastard had then decided to make his grand appearance to the thieves and exclaiming that they needed to prove their worth with dancing in order to proceed. After sitting down in his VIP booth to watch the show from above, a meter appeared next to the stage indicating the shadow’s approval to their dancing.

“And it was only thanks to Haru’s past experience in ballet that saved our skins in the first place,” Ann remarked and slumped down in her seat in the middle booth. “But it still didn’t let us proceed.”

Haru shifts in her seat across from her, “Sorry, if only I wasn’t so rusty at it. It’s been years since I last practiced my dancing.”

Makoto set a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “If it weren’t for that knowledge, we probably wouldn’t be sitting here at all. It allowed us to placate the shadows long enough for us to escape and regroup.” She slowly retracted her hand as Akira moved over to place her cup of coffee in front of her and quickly thanked him.

After handing over everyone’s drink, Akira leans against LeBlanc’s bar and crosses him arms. “So, in order to proceed, we need to learn how to dance.”

“I agree,” Morgana exclaimed from his spot on Futaba’s lap. “And we probably have to dance well enough to pass as experts.”

Everyone but Haru and Yusuke visibly groan at Morgana’s statement, further bringing the mood down in the room. “And how the hell are we expected to do that!” Ryuji shouted, frustration lacing his words. “We can’t let this bastard run wild!”

“Yeah!” Ann agreed, jumping up in her seat and slamming both her hands on the table. “We need to stop this before anyone else gets hurt!”

“We have a time limit as well,” Yusuke added, his voice apprehensive. He takes a small of sip of his coffee and continues. “He’s holding a massive gala on June 9th using his current students as entertainment for potential sponsors.”

Ann winces and glares into her coffee as she slides back down into her seat. “And we all know what kind of _entertainment_ the students will have to perform for these sponsors after the party.” Everyone goes silent at the words, mulling over their own thoughts.

“Idea!” Futaba voice rings out, ripping everyone out of their thoughts. Akira shifts his attention to his surrogate sister and watches as she pulls out her trusty laptop, and quickly getting to work. “Ding ding ding!” After a minute of waiting, Futaba had finally found what she had been looking for and turns her laptop around to show the rest of the thieves.

“A dancing channel?” Haru asks, leaning forward to see better.

Just as Haru said, Akira found himself looking over a YouTube channel called Dancing in Starlight with a little over two million subscribers. The thumbnails of recent videos show a variety of different people featured in them. However, raking over the vast number of videos shown, Akira found a male around twenty years of age with chestnut colored shoulder length hair that always seemed to be there. He was not always the center of attention in the videos (actually, most of them featured him to the side), but he was always there, completely confident and in his element.

“I found his channel about a month ago,” Futaba explains, breaking Akira from his analyzation of the brown-haired boy. “I had just finished a rhythm-based dancing game and wanted to know what style of dancing the characters were using!” She flips her laptop back towards her and Morgana peaked his head over the table to get a closer look. “This guy is wicked good! His channel has loads of different types of dancing styles on it. Apparently, everyone in his videos are his clients that he’s choreographed and taught their own personal routine to dance to.” She clicks on a seemingly random video and moves it back around for the others to watch. “See!”

Yusuke moves from his side at the bar and leans over Haru to get a better look. “It’s very artistically pleasing! It is a like a moving picture of art!” Akira could not help but agree as he watches the brown-haired boy move around the computer screen with two others shadowing his movements. “I wonder if I could make a painting out of something like this.”

 _Please do, Yusuke,_ Akira’s mind muttered before he could stop it as the brown-haired boy does a sort of drop move that had him coming back up shaking his ass to the beat of the music.

“Inari! Focus!” Akira shakes his head before the thought could go any further as Futaba voice cuts through his thoughts once again.

“I’m guessing there’s a good reason you brought this up, Futaba?” Makoto asks before Yusuke and Futaba could start bickering.

“Yeah, I don’t see how a couple of YouTube videos could help us,” Ryuji adds under his breath.

Futaba starts to cackle and turns her laptop away from them just as the dancing seemed to be coming to a climax while Akira tried not let his disappoint cross his face as the screen turned away. “Because!” She turns it back after looking up something and points at something on the screen. “His dance studio is located off of Central Street in Shibuya! We can all make appointments with him and learn our own dance moves!” She then starts to sing the Final Fantasy victory theme and settles back into the booth, looking very pleased with herself.

“You think that’ll work?” Haru asks, looking around at the group. “We only have a month before the gala.”

“Maybe if Ryuji didn’t have two left feet,” Morgana sneers.

“What the hell? I do not you stupid cat!”

“I’m not a cat!”

“Enough!” Makoto interrupts, slamming her hand on the table. Ryuji shoots Morgana one last glare and goes back to his drink while Morgana settles back into Futaba’s lap. Making sure she had nipped the argument at the bud, Makoto lets out a sigh and turns her attention back to Futaba’s laptop. “I’m not so sure about this… From what I recall, didn’t he have a large subscriber count? He might be booked up for months.”

Futaba shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to try. Besides, there are six other instructors at the studio! They can’t all be completely booked.”

Ann stretched her arms in front of her, shifting her gaze to Akira. “What do you think leader? Give the dance studio a shot?”

Akira uncrosses his arms and stood up straight when the group focuses on him, waiting for his answer. Passing his gaze over each of his smiling friends, Akira gives them a nod. “Let’s do it.”

“Yes!” Futaba shouts, throwing her arms in the air. “I am so ready to level up my dancing skills.”

“I would have to agree. Learning a new type of art so different from my own will be a riveting experience,” Yusuke hums in confirmation.

“Oh! Oh!” Ryuji shouts, jumping up from his seat. “I want to try out that spinning thing!”

“Spinning thing?” Haru politely asks.

“Yeah! Ya know, that dance move that you see people spinning like a top on the street?” Ryuji tries to explain.

“Spinning like a top?” Ann mutters, twirling her hair in thought. “Oh! You mean breakdancing?”

“Yeah! That!” Ryuji exclaims, pointing at Ann. “Breakdancing! I totally want to learn how to breakdance!”

With that, the rest of the Phantom Thieves start conversing about what kind of dance style they wanted to try out. The excitement in the room skyrocketed and the tonal whiplash from the beginning of the conversation to now about the prospect of dancing their way through the palace could not help but make Akira smile at their antics. Noticing the time, Akira makes his way back into the kitchen to hand out plates of LeBlanc’s curry to each of his friends and refills their drinks as dinner time rolls around.

With bellies filled and a game plan in place the visit the studio in two days, each of the Phantom Thieves make their leave out of LeBlanc. Being the last one to leave, Futaba closes the door behind her and waves through the glass. With it finally just Akira and Morgana left in the café, Akira flips the sign over to closed, locks the door, and starts the process of slowly closing down LeBlanc for the day.

Since he moved back to Tokyo three years ago to start his college career, Sojiro had slowly been giving Akira more and more power in how LeBlanc ran. Nowadays it seemed, in everything but words, that he would just own LeBlanc as soon as he graduated. He knew it, Sojiro knew it, Futaba knew it and in a year’s time he would be graduated with his major in business and the proud owner of LeBlanc. When he was first sent to Tokyo, all those years ago to start his probation, he never would have imagined that this dingy, old café would be more his home than his parent’s house ever was.

Smiling fondly at the grooves and nicks in LeBlanc’s bar as he wipes it down, Morgana takes this opportunity to jump up next to him and bump his head against his arm. “Come on,” Morgana prompts, “it’s getting late and you have that eight o’clock class in the morning.”

Akira groans at the reminder and throws the dirty rag into the laundry basket under the sink to wash later. “Don’t remind me. I haven’t even started on the semester project for it.” He removes his green apron and it soon follows the rag into the laundry basket.

Morgana rolls his eyes and jumps off the bar as Akira shuts off the overhead light and makes his way up the stairs. Akira spends the next couple minutes getting ready for bed and flops face down onto his mattress. He had finally gotten a real bed after moving back for college as a welcome back gift from Sojiro. However, to this day, Boss will deny that he had splurged on getting Akira a nice bed with how soft and heavenly it was.

Feeling Morgana jump up and mark his sleeping place on the bed, Akira takes that as his que to flip over onto his back and grabs his phone to do a last-minute check through his social media. His thumb was hovering over Instagram when the red and white app of YouTube caught his attention. Before he lost his nerve, Akira thumbs over and taps the app open. Typing in the search bar for the Dancing in Starlight channel, Akira promptly subscribes and moves over to the most watched videos on the channel.

The rest of the night was spent watching video after video on the channel, and a screeching not-cat in the morning.

He didn’t regret a single thing.

*~*

Goro Akechi walks into the dance studio completely refreshed and ready for his rare day off from his clientele. It wasn’t very often that he found his schedule completely free for an entire workday and he was wholly ready to use it to practice his own dancing.

“Good morning, Marie,” Goro sent the drowsy receptionist one of his rare smiles as he sets his extra coffee mug in front of her. “Another long night at the weather station?” He shifts his duffle bag into a more comfortable position on his shoulder as he watches Marie slowly come back to life.

Giving Goro a sleepy glare at his cheery morning attitude, Marie grasps at the mug and chugs as if the coffee were not throat burning hot. Goro shrugs at the lack of response and takes this time to head over to the filing cabinet behind her and pulls out his binder. As he picks it up, he notices that it is noticeably lighter than usual. Flipping through the pages of his upcoming week and finds that it’s unusually empty. “Marie, why is my schedule so spacious for the next three weeks?”

“Because that gymnast girl and her sister have canceled their contract with us,” Marie mutters, stifling a yawn. “Don’t know why. Didn’t ask.” Another yawn. “But they did make it a point that it wasn’t on our end that caused it.”

Goro furrows his brow at the surprising amount of free time that he suddenly gained and signed off on his schedule for the day before setting it back it into its proper place. “I’ll be sure to send them a card and a small parting gift in the next few days.”

“Hmmm,” Marie hummed sleepily in agreement behind him. Turning back around to face Marie found himself face to face with an empty coffee mug and a scowling receptionist. “More.”

He gives a small huff and quickly hides his coffee thermos behind his back before Marie could grab it from him. She could be unnaturally fast if she wanted to be sometimes “And if I gave you anymore there wouldn’t be any left for myself.”

“Give me more,” she pushes her mug into his free hand, “or I’ll make it downpour on your way home today.” An evil glint enters her eye, “and I know that you biked.”

Goro lets out a sigh and hands her the entire thermos instead. Even though there wasn’t any rain in the forecast later (he checked three times before leaving his apartment today), Marie had a knack for predicting the weather. After having had been a victim of one too many weather disasters incurred after her wrath, Goro had decided to never take her threats lightly again. “You’re lucky I don’t have any clients today or I wouldn’t have given you any at all,” but that did not mean he would fully back down either.

Marie rolls her eyes, “whatever.” She pours the rest of the thermos into her mug and downs it like the first cup. “No clients today, huh? When’s the last time _that_ has happened?”

“Too long,” Goro muttered. The last time he specifically had a client free break was a little under three years ago. When he had started working at Starlight just after turning eighteen, his only clients were regulars and the occasion transfer from another instructor at the studio when they didn’t have enough openings for all their clients. After two years of this the founder of the studio, Rise, had had enough of his moping and lack of clientele for his “obvious dancing genius” and demanded that he create a YouTube channel to showcase his work. Two months later found himself booked with clients after a choregraphed dance with the rest of the instructors at the studio went viral. It was nice to finally be busy (and his wallet was very thankful), but he sometimes missed being able to choregraph dances catered to himself instead of others.

“Enough of that,” Marie flicks her finger over his forehead, taking Goro out of memory lane. “You should just turn away customers. You work too much.” Marie takes her hand back and examines her nails to appear aloof, but the subtle glances she kept sending his way gave her concern away.

“I’m working the right amount,” Goro scoffed and reached into his back pocket to reach for his studio room keys. “Without me you wouldn’t get your morning coffee every day too.” The rest of the instructors wouldn’t be in for another two hours and Goro liked the quiet feel of just himself, his client, Marie, and sometimes Naoto inside the studio before the usual influx of customers and noise permeated the building.

“I wouldn’t even need the coffee if your cheery morning ass came in at the same time as everyone else.”

“I keep telling you that you don’t have to come in so early every time I work,” Goro shouts as we walks away from the front desk and down the hallway to his room. “I’m perfectly capable of checking in _one_ person before you come in.”

“No way in hell, kid!” Marie shouts after him. “I’m not filling up those open slots for you!”

Goro ignores her shouting and light threats in favor of unlocking his door and sliding it open and then closing it behind him. The first thing he does is plug in his phone to the overhead speakers and shuffles his warmup playlist. With the soft piano melody filling his ears, Goro checks to make sure his mini fridge is stocked with enough water and gets to work unpacking his duffel bag for the long day ahead of him. He isn’t sure when the next time he would get a day like this to himself again and Goro wanted to make the most of it while he still could.

*~*

Several hours later finds Goro with a protein bar dangling from his mouth and taking notes on his latest video recording of today’s choreographed dance. He is moderately pleased with how it was turning out so far, but Goro was famously known as a perfectionist when it came to his routines and his satisfaction could change at the drop of a hat.

While on his break, Goro checks his phone and replies to his handful of emails from his clients confirming their appointments and non-client requests to book a timeslot with him sent straight to the trash. With their dance studio being one of the biggest- if not _the_ biggest- in all of Tokyo that didn’t cater to idol groups, Starlight had to be very careful with whom they accepted as clientele. With having a former extremely popular idol and current YouTube star working in their mist, the group had to be careful with not accepting contracts with clout chasers and crazy stalkers. All appointments had to be made in person, a deposit on their first visit, and a trial class before anyone was accepted for long term.

Goro’s playlist briefly stops before Marie’s voice comes on over the loudspeaker. “Hey, Goro. Need some help out front and you’re the lucky man to help me since you’re the only one free.”

“I’ll be right there,” Goro replies and gets up to stretch as his music comes back on over the loudspeaker. Grabbing his phone and swapping his dance shoes for his normal ones, he slides open his door and makes his way down the hall to the front desk. Almost immediately his ears pick up the sounds of a large group of people congregating in the area where he was heading. _Ah, now I see,_ Goro realizes as he comes into view of the group. While it wasn’t that rare to have groups of people coming in for lessons; any time there was more than five people to said group, it tended to make things a little more difficult in processing requests and finding available time slots for all of them. _I guess there goes all my available free time._


	2. May 2nd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Above tags and rating have changed. Please see above.

The Starlight dancing studio was massive. Five floors. The dancing studio was a _five-floor building right off of central street in Shibuya._ How did they get the funds to run a place like this? Akira felt his wallet burning a hole in his pocket as his gaze rakes over the building in its entirety. He silently wondered if the Phantom Thief budget would even be able to cover all the lessons each of them needed.

He sure hoped so.

He hears Ryuji lets out an impressed whistle to his right. “Damn. This place looks hella fancy.”

“This truly is a place where beautiful art is made! Just look at that symmetry and the tasteful use of the potted plants along the windowsills.” Yusuke, of course, was using his fingers to frame the building; shifting them from side to side in an attempt to find the perfect shot of the beautiful grey and black dance studio. “I wonder if the owners would allow me to paint the building during work hours. I absolutely _must_ capture the pure energy emanating from this place.”

“Can you really own a place like this by being a dance studio and a semi-famous YouTube channel?” Ann asks, suddenly eyeing the business in open suspicion. “I’m not so sure about this.”

“You can totally keep a place like this if the owner of the studio is the former idol Risette!” Futaba’s cheshire grin spreads across her face as she rocks back on her heels, taking in everyone’s expressions.

“Risette? Like, _the_ idol Risette?” Ryuji exclaims, his eyes going wide. “No way!”

“Yes way! What? Did you guys really think I wouldn’t research this place before we came here?” Futaba playfully scolds and wiggles her finger in the loud blonde’s direction. “Everyone here is one hundred percent completely legit at their job.”

Akira nods in approval, “Good work.”

“Hehehe,” Futaba cackles, reveling in the praise.

“But still! Risette! I can’t believe I might be meeting an idol!” Ryuji continues, his eyes glazing over in thought. “I still have her debut CDs on my shelf back home!”

“Focus, Ryuji. We have a mission to fulfil,” Morgana snips, wiggling his body out of Akira’s backpack and onto the humans’ shoulders. “No hitting on the instructors. We have a reputation as gentlemen thieves to uphold.”

“And you freaking hitting on Ann all the time is fine?” Ryuji mutters, glaring at the not-cat.

“The difference between you and me is that I’m always a gentleman, unlike yourself,” Morgana scoffs. “And Lady Ann’s beauty is far superior to any woman.”

“What the hell, man?!”

“Well it’s true!”

“It’s totally not!”

“Anyway!” Ann cuts in, placing herself between the two boys. “I do hope I get to meet her! I missed my chance when my modeling career had just taken off and I really want to know how she keeps her hair and skin so healthy!”

“There’s no need for that, Lady Ann! You’re already the most beautiful woman in the world. This Risette person couldn’t possibly hold a candle to your beauty,” Morgana pipes up from the backpack.

“Stupid simping cat,” Ryuji mutters, making his way over to Akira’s other side and gives him a grin. “What do you think of Risette? Pretty hot, right?”

“Ah, yeah,” Akira responds, not having the heart to tell his best friend that he was actually eyeing up another instructor at the studio instead. One that he had spent the last two nights watching video after video of.

“So,” Makoto’s commanding voice cuts through all the Phantom Thieves conversations as if a gunshot had gone off and everyone’s attention immediately turns towards her, “should we head inside?”

Akira nods and turns back to the studio’s entrance. “Everyone ready?” A chorus of confirmations ring in his ears and Akira’s signature Joker smirk spreads across his face. “It’s showtime,” and he leads the charge into the building.

*~*

Goro tries not to let the irritation show on his face as his right eye twitches in annoyance when he finds _seven_ young adults congregating in the lobby with Marie. As he quietly walks in and his presence was finally noticed, Goro plasters on his customer service smile in return to their stares. “Welcome to Starlight Studio, my name is Goro Akechi. How can I help you today?” They were a colorful cast of characters, that was for sure.

Analyzing the group before him, Goro had no idea how their group of odd characters would ever have been able to meet and become friends in the first place. For example, how did the fluffy haired girl, who was the very image of a high-class aristocrat, ever be able to get along with the blonde-haired boy next to her that emanated pure delinquency? And yet… The two seemed completely content in each other’s presence. There was _something_ linking the group together that he wasn’t seeing here.

 _Interesting_.

“So, um…” The blonde pig-tailed girl spoke up, twirling her hair in obvious nervousness. “We were wondering if your wonderful studio had any immediate openings to teach us how to dance!”

“Immediate openings?” Goro hums, rubbing his left hand under his chin in fake thought. “We’re usually book up months in advanced, so I’m not sure if we’ll have enough availability for all of you to have your own timeslots.”

“If timeslots are a problem, we’d be willing to work as a group as well,” the girl with the intense look in her eye offers. “If you have room for all of us, that is.”

“We may have something,” Goro says, glancing to the suspiciously quiet receptionist. “What do you think Marie-san? Any openings in my schedule?” He taunts her, daring Marie to bring up her earlier threat of not booking anyone into his newly opened schedule.

She shoots him a seething glare. “Stuff it,” she spits out and wiggles her mouse on the desk to awake up her sleeping computer and pulls up his schedule. “You have two four-hour openings from eight to noon tomorrow morning and the day after.”

“Perfect!” He replies, his voice drowning in fake enthusiasm. “Do either of those timeslots work for all of you?”

Once the question was past his lips, every head of the unusual group, in almost perfect synchronization, then turns towards the curly haired boy in the middle. Goro shudders slightly, not sure what exactly he was seeing, but feeling uneasy anyway. _Are they waiting for his approval or something?_ Goro ponders and eyes the boy in turn. He didn’t seem all that remarkable from a quick glance. Plain looks, quiet, and a horrible posture were the first things that jumped out to him. However, when their eyes finally meet, a faint hint of mischievousness lurking under that dark gaze catches him off guard.

“Tomorrow morning is fine.”

 _Oh no_ , he certainly wasn’t expecting a voice so deep and husky to come from the unassuming boy. “A-alright then!” Goro silently hopes that no one else heard his voice shake as he quickly pulls out a clipboard to hide the slipup and secures a new client contract under the clip. “May I get all of your names?”

After a quick introduction was given by his potential new group of clienteles, Goro grabs a pen to go over the new contract with them. “Due to the competitive nature of our scheduling for timeslots, as well as problems we’ve had in the past, Starlight Studio requires all new clients to be put on a trial period before entering a long-term contract. We also require a fifty-thousand-yen deposit before your first session which will be returned after your first appointment. If you’re accepted for a long-term contract, prices will be adjusted at an hourly rate, how long you’ll be with us, your group size, and what kind of dance style you’ll be taught.” He ticks off the boxes of each verbal requirement as he says them until he gets to the last page. “The rate for tomorrow’s session will be seven thousand, five hundred yen per hour; the total coming out to thirty-thousand yen for all of you.” He quickly shifts his gaze up to read their reactions to the price. Not seeing anything negative, Goro continues. “Available payment options for long term contracts can either be paid every session or as a tab to be paid off after your contract is completed. If you agree to these conditions, I’ll need each of you to sign and date here.” He points to the numerous lines lining the last page and hands over the clipboard to the curly haired boy, newly named Akira Kurusu, and gives them his best customer service smile.

Niijima-san steps over, looking over Kurusu-san’s shoulder in the process, and reads over the contract to make sure Goro didn’t miss anything in his explanation. “Sounds fair to me,” she nods in satisfaction, “what about the rest of you?”

“Yeah! Let’s do it!” Takamaki-san pips up in excited agreement.

“I have no idea what this contract and deposit thing is about, so I’ll leave the complicated stuff to you guys.” Sakamoto-san adds. “But I agree. Let’s do it.”

“Stupid Ryuji,” the small voice of Sakura-san mutters from behind Kurusu-san’s back. “But I think we should totes do it.”

“This is so exciting. I can’t wait to start,” Okumura-san giggles.

“Even if we do not acquire the long-term contract with your company, would I be able to be given permission to paint your charming studio? I would be eternally grateful if I were given a chance to capture the unique grace and beauty this space is emanating!” Kitagawa-san asks, rushing out to grab his hands.

Before the excited painter could make contact with Goro, Takamaki-san dashes forward and grabs Kitagawa-san away from his personal space. “A-ah, so sorry about that! Don’t worry about him!” She gives the blue-haired boy a small kick to the shin and sends a blinding smile towards the instructor. “Yusuke still hasn’t quite grasped the concept of _personal space_ when he gets excited about a new painting prospect.”

Grateful to the twin-tailed blonde, Goro clears his throat to give himself a chance to recollect himself and gives the two of them a smile. “I’ll have to check with Rise-san on whether or not you’ll be able to paint here. She’s the owner of the studio and is incredibly protective of it and her employees.”

“That’s an understatement,” Marie mutters at the desk, leaning forward to rest her head on her hands. “For example, back in January, there was this one guy who-“

“ _Okay, Marie_ ,” Goro quickly interrupts, his eye twitching and fake smile growing to unnatural levels. “I’m sure no one wants to hear about _that_ story.” She gives him a small pout (one that she’ll vehemently deny ever having later) and drops the subject as requested. Turning his attention back to the group, Goro hands over his pen for Kurusu-san to take. “So, you’re all in agreement to our terms and conditions for your four-hour group appointment on May 12th from 8am to 12pm?”

Kurusu-san nods and grabs the offered pen before signing his name and date on the first line of the clipboard. He then hands over the two items to Niijima-san and the clipboard slowly makes it way around the group until they had all signed it. When the last signature had been made, the completed contract makes its way back into his hands and Goro checks it over one last time before handing it to Marie to fill away.

“Thank you for your business,” Marie grumbles, taking the clipboard from his grasp. “Would you like to pay for the deposit and payment now or tomorrow morning?”

“Now is fine,” Kurusu-san’s husky voice answers, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He hands over the bills and Marie files it away with the contract, making a note in the newly made file that the deposit and payment had been paid.

“Would you like an appointment card, sir?” Marie asks, voice still devoid of any customer service forced cheeriness.

“This guy definitely doesn’t,” Takamaki-san answers, wrapping her arm around Kurusu-san’s shoulder. “But Ryuji does,” she giggles, pointing her thumb at said blonde behind her.

“W-what the- Ann!” Sakamoto-san stutters. “I can totally remember something like this!”

“Just like you totally remember that exams are happening in two weeks,” Sakura-san points out, still clinging to Kurusu-san’s back.

“Yeah, but that’s, like, forever from now!”

“Stupid, Ryuji,” she mutters again.

Sakamoto-san looks like he is about to respond back to the snide comment when Okumura-san beats him to the punch, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I think don’t think there’s anything wrong with forgetting things like this. It’s one of my favorite qualities of yours, Ryuji.”

“What? That I’m an idiot?” He grumbles.

Okumura-san lets out a series of giggles. “No, silly. It means I like how free spirited you are.”

“Wow Haru,” Takamaki-san laughs, “that’s probably the politest way I’ve ever heard someone call another person an idiot.”

The entire group erupts into laughter; even Sakamoto-san and the prim and proper Niijima-san joining in, unable to help themselves from joining in the infectiously cheerful atmosphere. Watching the close-knit group of friends, Goro tries not to let the icy grip of jealously enter his heart at the sight.

 _If only,_ he shakes his head quickly, cutting off the thought immediately.

“We should head out before we overstay our welcome,” Niijima interjects after a few minutes of laughter. “Akechi-san and Marie-san have work that I’m sure they need to get back to.”

“Alright!” Takamaki-san cheers. “We’ll see you tomorrow morning, Akechi-kun!” The rest of the group take this time to also say their goodbyes as well and make their way to the front door, thanking him and Marie for their time.

The last one to leave was Kurusu-san, but he’s already halfway through the doorway when he turns back and to look at Goro over his shoulder. “Oh yeah, you okay with cats?”

Goro blinks in confusion. “Cats?”

As if on cue, a small and furry head pops out of Kurusu-san’s backpack and eyes up the dance instructor with enough intelligence that seemed almost human-like. Kurusu-san and his unique group of friends just couldn’t seem to stop surprising him at every turn. How could he have not realized that a cat had been in his backpack the whole time? “This is Morgana,” Kurusu-san’s voice replies, introducing the cat to the two employees, “he has a sort of…” he pauses, moving his hand around in thought, “separation anxiety. So, he likes to join me wherever I go.”

The cat, Morgana, apparently did not take too kindly to what Kurusu-san had said and a loud screech rings throughout the lobby. Goro feels his eye twitch in annoyance and notices Kurusu-san wince at the sharp claws now digging into his left shoulder.

“Ow! Mona, stop!” Kurusu-san pleads with the cat on his shoulder and jostles the bag in an attempt to detach the claws from his skin. “I think your claws are causing me to bleed! Do you want to join us tomorrow or not?”

With a resigned meow, Morgana retracts his claws and settles comfortably back on his perch on Kurusu-san’s shoulder, his tail the only thing giving away his current annoyance to the dark-haired boy.

“Would you like a band aid?” Goro offers, unable to think of anything else to say after a display like that.

“Ah, no. Thanks though. It should be fine,” Kurusu-san replies, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “I know that wasn’t exactly the best display of Morgana’s good behavior, but he really is well trained. So…” He shifts from side to side, “would it be okay if Morgana joins us during the dance lessons? He won’t do anything bad or damage any of your equipment. Promise!”

Goro looks over the strange cat, scrutinizing him and trying to decide whether or not he was okay with having a pet in his personal studio. The space had always been one of the most important places to him and Goro wasn’t sure if he wanted to risk it getting damaged by cat claws. He could practically feel Morgana burning holes into him as if he knew exactly what his thought process was and Goro lifts his gaze into the bright blue ones of the feline. When the cat did not shy away from his stare and even challenges him back, Goro could not help but be impressed.

Kurusu-san certainly did have an amazing pet.

“You have my permission to have Morgana at the dance lesson tomorrow morning,” Goro says, his mind made up to let the cat stay and tries not to let Kurusu-san’s bright smile in response to his agreement affect him. “However,” he lets the threat linger on his tongue, “if he damages anything or gets in the way of practice, you’ll be expected to pay for any cost it may incur.”

The dark-haired boy turns sheepish and twists a part of his hair in nervousness. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Goro nods, satisfied. “Be sure to remind your friends to have a light breakfast tomorrow, bring plenty of water, and to wear comfortable workout clothes. Newbies tend to underestimate how much of a workout dancing truly is.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Kurusu-san says, dropping his arm before sliding a mischievous smirk onto his face. “Akechi-sensei,” his voice rumbled, an octave lower than it was before. Then, before Goro could process and react to the new title, Kurusu-san makes his grand exit out of the studio.

 _That insufferable bastard_ was the first thought that crosses his mind as Goro Akechi finally composes himself from the teasing that he had just been subjected to by his newest client. _I’ll be sure to work him tomorrow tenfold for that little stunt_. With a slight dusting of a blush on his cheeks, Goro turns back around to the waiting receptionist; completely unsurprised by the shit-eating grin adorning her facial features.

“I am _so_ ready for tomorrows dance session, _Akechi_ - _sensei_.”

“And you can go fuck yourself, Marie,” Goro says in the sweetest voice he could muster, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. Making his quick escape, Goro fast walks back to his room as Marie’s cackling laugher follows him down the hallway.

Several hours later, finds Goro mopping up the wooden floor of his studio clean for the night. Hearing the door to his room slide open, Goro tries not to tense up as he feels hands cover his eyes. “Guess who, Goro-chan!”

“What can I do for you, Rise?” He asks without missing a beat.

He could practically feel the pout emanating from the former idol as she removes her hands from his eyes and lightly whacks his back. “You could have at least played along, Goro-chan,” she whined, appearing in his vision from his right side; her pout locked firmly in place as predicted.

Rolling his eyes at her antics, Goro continues on his way mopping the floor to perfection. “You’re the only one at the studio that calls me Goro-chan, you know.”

“So!” She protests, stomping her foot on his newly mopped floor. He winces, he will have to do a quick once over again after she leaves. “You’re way too uptight all the time, Goro-chan! Have some fun for once!”

He lets out a sigh and raises his hands in surrender, the mop coming to rest against his chest. The last thing he wanted right now was to have this argument again with her about his current social life… or lack thereof of one. “Is there something you needed, Rise? I would really like to finish this up and go take a shower upstairs,” he asks, grabbing his abandoned mop once more and shifting it from one hand to another to prove his point.

“Oh! That’s right! I almost forgot!” Her complete tonal shift causing him to roll his eyes at her once more. “Chie ordered dinner for all of us!”

“And paid for by Yosuke.”

“And paid for by Yosuke,” she confirms, causing a brief smile to slip onto his face. “We had record breaking numbers last month, so we all decided to get a big order of sushi delivered to the studio tonight for dinner.”

He pauses, the mop coming to rest in his left hand, and sneaks a glance at the former idol. “Sushi?”

“That’s right.” She nods. “Sushi.”

“I’ll meet you guys in the lounge after my shower,” he eyes her, daring Rise to make a side comment about his favorite food. “And make sure the others don’t eat my share before I can get there.”

“Sure thing, Goro-chan!” Rise salutes and makes her way over to the doorway out of the room, a noticeable spring in her step. “But I can’t guarantee anything if you take too long!” Her singsong voice following her as she skips down the hallway.

Taking her warning to heart, Goro finishes his closing list in record time, and puts everything back away into their proper places. He grabs his already packed duffle bag and takes out his keys to lock the room behind him as he leaves. With the room secured behind him, Goro speed walks his way back to the lobby area to take the elevator up to the fifth floor where the employee lounge and showers were located.

As Goro exits the elevator, he could clearly hear the others already relaxing in the lounge by their distinct laugher and teasing and hurries into the male bathing area to get himself clean. He remembers that hadn’t eaten much that day when his stomach rumbles in protest, calling out for the promise of food in the room next door. Ignoring the gnawing ache in his stomach, Goro steps into the shower, momentarily relaxing under the hot water as a voice rings out in his head scolding him for not eating more that day, sounding eerily like Naoto.

“I eat just fine,” he mutters to no one in particular, lathering his hair in the available shampoo. Not wanting to waste more time than necessary in the shower, even though the hot water did feel like heaven on his overworked muscles, Goro finishes up his routine and takes out his extra set of street clothes to wear.

“You better not have touched my portion of sushi,” Goro says, announcing his presence to the others in the employee lounge. He grabs his usual spot at the only single couch in the room and gives Naoto a nod of thanks as they place a glass of chilled green tea on the central table in front of him.

“And have you bitch about it for the next week?” Yosuke huffs, leaning back in his own seat. “No way in hell, man. I’m not chancing it.”

“Smart move there,” Chie agrees, and Yukiko gives a small snort of laughter next to her.

“Remember when- “Yukiko snorts in laughter again, unable to contain it. “R-remember when Kanji ate Goro’s pudding? And then he made him buy five of this super hard-to-get pudding from that one place in Akihabara as apology?” She then doubles over in laughter, leaning onto Chie to keep herself upright. “It was hilarious!”

“Hey! Don’t bring that shit up! How the hell was I supposed to know that it belonged to someone?” Kanji complains, crossing his arms and looking in the opposite direction of Goro.

“How about you don’t eat food that isn’t yours,” Goro offers, a condescending smile plastered on his face. Kanji mutters something that vaguely sounded like _how about not putting your food in the communal fridge,_ and Goro clenches his fist in irritation. “What was that?” He demands, putting on the most disgustingly sweet voice he could muster.

“N-nothing, sir!” Kanji yelps, sitting up straight in his seat on the couch.

Naoto lets a sigh from their spot between the two and checks the time on their phone. “We should start eating soon, all of us have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

A ripple of agreement courses through the group and the sounds of eating soon fills the room. Unable, or maybe unwilling to, Goro could not help but relax back into his seat when all of sushi had been consumed on his plate. Feeling his eyes getting heavy the further he sinks into the comfy chair, Goro stifles a yawn. Warm, full, and comfortably sore from his long day of work, Goro momentarily lets his eyes close as his work family’s conversation lull him into a half awake, half asleep state.

That is, until the distinct sound of a camera going off had him opening his eyes and half-heartedly glaring up at Yu who, of course, wore a satisfied smirk at Goro’s sad attempt at glaring.

“Let me see! Let me see!” Rise demands, making grabbing motions for Yu’s phone. Goro lets out a groan and recloses his eyes as she coos at his picture. “This one is definitely going into our son’s photo album.”

Goro chokes at the words, his eyes flying back open. “ _Son?_ ”

Rise nods satisfied with herself. “Of course.” She puffs up her chest in pride. “You’re our group’s son, Goro-chan. We officially adopted you four years ago. No take backsies.”

He snorts. “You can’t adopt an eighteen-year-old.”

“Hey!” She points at him in mock anger. “I said no take backsies!”

“You’re not even that my much older than me,” he scoffs, refusing to back down. “And delete that picture.”

“Just let it go man,” Yosuke groans. “You know you’ll never win this argument.”

“Wow, Yosuke actually said something sensible for once,” Chie pips in, sounding completely astonished while Yukiko clings to her as a new string of snorting laughter overtakes the longer haired girl.

“Hey!”

“Anyway,” Kanji interjects, cutting off Yosuke’s protest. “If you don’t let her have this, man, Rise might replace your employee picture on our webpage to the one of you dozing off,” he warns.

“What a great idea, Kanji!” Delighted by the suggestion, Rise smiles evilly into Yu’s phone and furiously types away as Goro sends Kanji a seething glare.

“W-wait. I didn’t mean.”

“Rise,” Naoto’s calm voice breaks through the chaos. “The website for Starlight Studio is for professional use only. You can’t change Goro’s employee picture to something like that.”

The former idol pouts. “Fine,” she whines, “but I get to change his picture in our group chat.”

Naoto gives a short laugh and nods. “That’s fine.”

Dropping the subject as suggested, Goro rubs his temples in an attempt to stave off the incoming migraine. He’d being lying if he said he didn’t appreciate and care for the other members of Starlight Studio, but their love… could be very suffocating sometimes.

“Did anyone bring any alcohol?” Yu asks as Goro hears a notification come from his cell phone in his pocket. The smug satisfaction radiating from Rise was stifling as she hands Yu back his phone; finally done with her mission to humiliate the young brunette.

“No,” Chie grumbles, “Yosuke refused to pay for any.”

“What? Hey! I already had to pay for enough sushi for nine people! You could have at least paid for the alcohol, Chie!”

“And I think you should stop being so stingy and just buy the alcohol already! This is _supposed_ to be a celebration!”

“Guys, guys. Calm down.” Yu cuts in, stopping the brewing argument as he grasps for something behind the couch. “I bought enough for all us to share,” he adds, bringing out several bags of different liquor and sets it on the center table. “I didn’t know what to get for everyone, so I grabbed a variety of things for us to try.”

“Hell yeah!” Kanji cheers and grabs for the tequila rose bottle.

“Whatever happened to the whole ‘we have a long workday ahead of us tomorrow’,” Goro mutters as he watches Marie steal the UV Blue bottle away from Yosuke.

“I’m sure a drink or two won’t put us out of commission for tomorrow,” Yukiko reassures, taking the offered vodka and green tea cocktail from Naoto.

“This is a celebration, Goro. Nothing wrong with having a drink with us tonight,” Naoto says as they reclaim their seat on the couch next to Kanji, sipping at their own vodka and green tea cocktail. “You shouldn’t have a client until two o’clock tomorrow anyway, so just take that time to sleep in.” They take another drink, “I’ll be sure to approve of your change in work hours before we leave tonight.”

“Not true,” Marie jumps in, drinking straight from the UV Blue bottle. “A group of kiddos came in earlier today and swooped up his open timeslot for eight to noon tomorrow for a trial period. Isn’t that right?” She pauses, “ _Akechi-sensei._ ”

“And I thought I told you could go fuck yourself, Marie.” Goro snipes back, glaring at the not-so-innocent glass of red wine that Rise had slid towards him when he wasn’t looking. “And they weren’t _kiddos_. They were definitely my age, a year or two younger _at most_.”

“Whatever you say, kiddo,” she barks out a laugh and downs the rest of the bottle.

“I would have liked to have known about this earlier, Marie,” Naoto scolds.

Marie waves her hand dismissably and pours herself another drink into her abandoned glass. “Goro already took care of it. No need to worry, they seemed liked good kids.”

“Can no one else take any of the group to teach?” A series of negatives answers later and Naoto lets out a small sigh before turning their attention back to Goro. “Will you be okay with teaching a brand-new group of dancers all by yourself tomorrow? I wouldn’t mind backing you up.”

With the red wine now being nursed in his hand, Goro gives them a shrug in response. “I should be fine. I already have an idea of how to teach them the basics without it getting too out of hand.” He didn’t spend two and a half hours of his free time drawing up a plan for nothing after all. His new clients better appreciate his efforts.

“Well…” Their eyes glance around, hesitating on what to say next. “If you’re sure you’ll be fine.”

“I kinda agree with Naoto here,” says Chie, pushing an already drunk Yukiko off her to lean towards Goro while her drink threatens to spill over in the process. “After what happened with that guy in January, I’m not so sure you should be taking any new clients right now.”

He snorts,” I doubt a group as large as theirs would want _anything_ other than how to learn how to dance.” Goro shudders slightly, “besides, that bastard from January showed signs of ulterior motives before we even got to the first session. This group just seemed desperate.”

“Yup, definitely desperate and probably a little overwhelmed,” Marie agrees. “You should have seen these guys before I asked Goro for help. Half of them looked like they were one step away from an anxiety attack and the other half looked they didn’t know what the hell they were doing.” She pushes her empty glass across the table to Kanji, having downed the other drink in record time, and points at the Tequila Rose. He obliges her silent command and fills her glass halfway up with the strawberry cream drink. “Goro is way better at handling people like this anyway. He’ll be just fine with them tomorrow.”

“Hmmm,” Chie grumbles and leans back, her drink finally spilling a few drops onto her legs. “Fine… but someone has to check on them throughout the session!”

“I’m not a fucking _child_. I’m perfectly capable of handling myself and I definitely don’t need a fucking _babysitter_.”

“But I thought we had already established that you’re our son, Goro!” Yukiko slurs, already drunk off of her single drink and Chie grabs her empty glass from her and sets it out of reach. “Let us love you!” Before he could process what was happening, the long-haired girl was already out of her seat and into his lap. He’d say he was surprised by her actions if it wasn’t for a fact that this is something Yukiko did to at least one person in their friend group every time she drank. But it was usually Yu who was the victim to this drunken treatment. “You smell so good, Goro.”

“Thanks… I just took a shower.”

She giggles, “I guess that would be why!”

“Okay! That’s enough of that!” Chie exclaims, pulling Yukiko from Goro’s lap. “I think you’ve had enough to drink for the night, Yukiko. So, we’ll be heading out first.”

The drunk girl gives a slight sequel of protest as Chie pulls her up. Finding this predication as a new opportunity, Yukiko flings herself at the shorter girl instead, clinging to her arm. “Is my Prince Chie gonna take me home and put me to bed?”

“Oh my god, Yukiko. We’ve lived in the same apartment together for six years now. Chill out a bit.”

“We _have_?”

“Yes… We have.”

“That’s great news! I’ll drink to that!” She reaches for Chie’s still half full glass of beer.

“Nope. Nuh uh. None of that. No more alcohol for you,” she denies, pulling the taller girl towards the door leading to the hallway. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow. For real this time. Keep us updated on Goro’s situation, okay? Take care everyone!”

A quiet protest of _just one more drink_ from Yukiko and the hallway goes quiet. Placing his now empty glass of red wine on the table, Goro stands up and grabs his duffle bag. “I’m heading out too. Unlike the rest of you, I have an early morning.”

“I do too, you know! Someone has to man the front desk, you know.”

Waving off Marie, Goro says his goodbyes to the rest of the group. He even lets Rise give him a small peck to his left cheek before heading out of the studio to his waiting bike in the storage room out back.

Hopefully tomorrow wouldn’t be too bad.

*~*

**Phantom Thief Group Chat**

**Joker** : how much bribing do I have to do in order for you guys to wingman for me tomorrow?

 **Fox** : A new set of oil paint would be lovely, but may I ask why wings are involved for tomorrow’s lesson?

 **Oracle** : cuz jker wants 2 suc face with our neew dance teachr!

 **Fox** : Sucking face?

 **Oracle** : oh sweet sumer child

 **Oracle** : _image sent_

 **Fox** : Ah, I see now.

 **Oracle** : ;)

 **Joker** : how did you know it was about Akechi?

 **Oracle** : I saw ur youtube hisry

 **Oracle** : u tots want tht hot dancer dck

 **Joker** : guilty. now what’s the plan?

 **Queen** : We haven’t yet secured a permanent contract with Akechi-san. I’d rather we wait until after that happens to have this conversation.

 **Queen** : We can’t risk upsetting him right now.

 **Panther** : aw, lighten up a little queen! akechi-kun seemed real cute, so I say go for it joker!

 **Skull** : yeah man. i’m not sure how i can help ya but i can try!

 **Joker** : thx guys

 **Noir** : I think a nice start would be to bring your famous coffee over for him to try!

 **Panther** : omfg, that’s perfect! and if it turns out he likes it, you can totally ask him over to leblanc some time!

 **Joker** : good thinking guys. anyone else want a cup tomorrow?

 **Fox** : I wouldn’t say no to the offer.

 **Panther** : i’ll take one too!

 **Noir** : I would as well. Will you be able to handle them all, Joker? Should I come over early to help you carry them?

 **Joker** : i’ll have oracle help me.

 **Oracle** : do i hve 2

 **Oracle** : cuz i guarantee that i wn’t b awke

 **Joker** : then i appreciate any help you can give me noir

 **Noir** : I’ll be sure to be there by 7 to help! :)

 **Joker** : tysm

 **Noir** : Not a problem, Joker!

 **Queen** : I’ll meet up with you guys at LeBlanc as well. I would like to go over our plan for the palace once more.

 **Joker** : k

 **Oracle** : how tthirsty r u joker?

 **Joker** : depends

 **Oracle** : cuz i jst found the starlght group cht and some1 jst took a great pic of asskechi

 **Panther** : u didn’t!

 **Oracle** : want the deets?

 **Queen** : Oracle, that is private information.

 **Oracle** : pssh

 **Oracle** : so? how bout it joker

 **Joker** : i mean >.>

 **Joker** : fuck it, yeah i do

 **Oracle** : >:)

 **Oracle** : _image sent_

 **Panther** : aw!!!!1!! sleepy boi

 **Fox** : The composition of this photograph is very pleasing to the eyes.

 **Skull** : that’s all you have to say bout it? the freaking composition?

 **Fox** : I am only informing you of my approval. The taker of the photograph has a great deal of skill.

 **Skull** : -_-

 **Skull** : u still there joker?

 **Oracle** : hes defs short circuiting rn

 **Noir** : Joker?

 **Joker** : i’m fine

 **Oracle** : yeah after saving the pic 2 ur phone >:)

 **Joker** : >.>

 **Joker** : mona is yelling at me 2 go 2 bed

 **Queen** : I agree with that sentiment, we should all head to bed.

 **Queen** : That goes double for Skull and Oracle.

 **Oracle** : fight me queen

 **Queen** : I will personally come over and force you into bed if I see you still on after midnight.

 **Oracle** : O.O

Akira exits the group chat after saying goodbye to his friends and resists the urge to reopen his gallery to look at the sleeping picture of Akechi. The older boy really did look very peaceful in the photograph. A stark contrast to the fake persona that he was wearing earlier that afternoon.

Watching the videos of Akechi had started off as mere fascination and his bisexual brain being horny for a pretty boy, but after meeting him… Akechi was so different than what he was expecting and so much more than what video Akechi had portrayed himself as. He wasn’t sure as to _what_ it was just yet that was hiding just under the surface, but something was swimming under those wine-red eyes that had caused his bad habit of toeing with danger to rear its head.

Akechi was fascinating and oh so _very_ attractive that Akira silently hoped that any advances he might knowingly or unknowingly do tomorrow wouldn’t be _completely_ rejected by the other man.

“Just go to bed already, Akira,” Morgana complains, smacking him with his paw. “We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He plugs in his phone to charge and stands up to turn off the overhead lights in the refurbished attic. With the streetlamps being the only thing illuminating the room, Akira crawls into bed and lets Morgana claim his spot before getting comfy himself. “Night, Mona.”

“Good night,” the not-cat lets out a yawn and falls asleep within seconds.

Closing his eyes to the sound of soft snores, Akira felt like tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.


	3. May 3rd

Fully regretting the alcohol and subsequence lack of sleep the next morning, Goro locks up his bicycle in the back storage of Starlight Studio in a foul mood. Wanting to prove himself against the other employees’ expectations had him waking up several times that night to fix or improve his plan for the group coming in at eight that morning. This caused Goro to sleep through his first alarm and now he had only an hour to get ready, travel to the studio, and get his room prepped for the day.

Then there was the worst part.

Goro was forced to drink his old instant coffee from the back of his cabinets instead of grabbing his usual order from the café next door. Marie better not make a snide comment about the coffee this morning or he _will_ destroy something by the end of the day.

Grumbling to himself, Goro stuffs a protein bar in his mouth and makes his way back towards the front of the studio. Glancing at his phone, Goro calculates that he had about twenty minutes to open the lobby and to set up his room before his clients got there. At least, that was the plan until he came around the corner and saw half of the group already congregating in front of the building.

“Akechi-san!” Okumura-san shouts, getting the other three’s attention that the dance instructor had arrived. “So sorry we’re a bit early. We miscalculated how long it would take for us to get here,” she and others did look a bit embarrassed by their early presence, so he let it go. But only slightly.

“Good morning everyone,” he plastered on a smile. “I’m sorry, but I’ll need some time to set up for the day. Would you mind waiting in the lobby until I’m done?” Goro slid over to the entrance, grabbing his keys to unlock the door and holding it open for the four of them to enter.

“That won’t be a problem. Apologies again for the inconvenience,” Niijima-san says, bowing in apology.

Goro gives a slight laugh. “It’s no problem. I hope I didn’t make you wait long.”

Okumura-san giggles. “We actually just arrived,” she holds up a drink holder, “and we brought coffee for you. Akira brewed it himself!”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Kurusu-san did?”

“Yes! He actually lives above a café, so he made us all coffee this morning,” the fluffy haired girl informs him. “Akira has yours, it’s labeled GA on top.”

“I… see.” He eyes the promised cup in open suspicion as it sat innocently on Kurusu-san’s own drink holder and picks it up, inspecting the to-go mug with distrust.

Goro fully intended to place the cup somewhere in his room and forget about it the moment they entered the building, but the need for good coffee won out over everything. He takes a small, experimental sip and his eyes widen in shock. Not only was the coffee masterfully brewed, but it was made exactly how he took it. Slightly sweet and with just enough cream to brighten up the color of the coffee. Goro couldn’t help but take another, larger drink after the first and he fully let it sit comfortably on his tongue. He hummed in appreciation and cradled the hot drink to his chest.

His earlier foul mood fully dissipates, and a rare smile graces his features. “Thank you for the coffee. I was only, unfortunately, able to grab instant coffee this morning, so I fully appreciate the drink.” Goro holds up his gifted coffee and turns his full attention to the curly haired boy and was only slightly surprised to find the slight blush on the other boy’s features.

Finding his voice, Kurusu-san’s blush turns into a grimace. “I’m bringing you coffee from now on,” his voice rumbles. “No one should be subjected to the true horror that is instant coffee.”

“Truly,” Goro also grimaces and glares daggers at his thermos. “If I didn’t have such a dependency on caffeine, this inhuman concoction disguised as a caffeinated drink wouldn’t be within a kilometer of myself.”

Kurusu-san barks out a laugh. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out and make sure you don’t drink anything disguised as coffee while I’m around.”

“Yo!” Goro jumps as the sudden voice from behind him and propels himself back into his surroundings. The rest of his clients had, at some point, shown up behind him and Goro checks the time on his phone to find that he only had five minutes to open the building.

Cursing himself for getting distracted by the gift and talk of coffee, and totally not flirting with Kurusu-san, Goro hurries behind the lobby’s desk and grabs his work binder. Not even glancing at his schedule, he signs off on his timetable and leaves his instant coffee on the front desk for Marie to drink or handle as she saw fit. With minutes to spare, Goro leaves the job of opening the lobby for the receptionist to handle and indicates the group to follow him down the hall to his room.

Goro opens the sliding door to his room and leaves it open for the others to follow inside behind him and quickly plugs in his phone to the loudspeaker. Taking far too long to find what he was looking for, Goro finally locates the desired playlist for the morning that he had put over an hour into making last night. Checking off his mental checklist while his clients settled into their places, he speeds walks out of his dance room to locate the clean towel rack and grabs enough fresh towels for eight people during their four-hour timeslot.

“Okay!” With a stack of fresh towels in hands, Goro places them on top of his mini fridge and looks around to see how the rest of the group was faring.

He lets out a sigh in contempt at the state of his room. Sakura-san seems to have already dozed off in the corner near the windows while Niijima-san, with minimal success, tries to nudge her back awake. Kitagawa-san has pulled a drawing pad from seemingly nowhere and was drawing the studio room was chaotic vigor. Takamaki-san and Okumura-san were gossiping near the doorway while Kurusu-san and Sakamoto-san made plans to jog together the next day and about how college was going for them. Morgana was also already out of Kurusu-san’s backpack and was roaming the room, fully inspecting everything and anything that he came across.

Letting out another sigh, Goro claps his hands together to get their attention. “Sorry for the wait. Is everyone ready to get started?” He hoped it was early enough in the morning that the distain he was feeling wasn’t noticeable enough in his voice.

After six positive confirmations and a drawn-out groan from the orange haired girl in the corner, Goro grabs the remote to the loudspeaker and presses the button to play the first song waiting on his playlist.

“We’ll be starting with some light warmup exercises to help us increase our flexibility and muscle warmth. Let’s start with running in place for five minutes and then move on to jumping jacks for another five.” Sakura-san once more lets out a groan from the corner but moves over to stand with the others in front of Goro to start the warmup.

When the required ten minutes were done, Goro then instructs the group to start lunge splits. He had them do several more dynamic stretching to warm up their muscles for the needed dancing ahead of them and made mental notes on how flexible each person was.

Okumura-san, Kurusu-san and, surprisingly, Kitagawa-san showed the greatest promise in flexible dance moves while Sakura-san and Takamaki-san showed moderate flexibility, and Sakamoto-san and Niijima-san looked downright hopeless in the department.

For the next two hours, Goro taught the group simple dance moves from all sorts of styles. From basic hip hop to Kpop and then to classical slow dancing and then some, he watches over the group and makes the necessary deductions on which approach he should take with each person. There was a dance style for everyone, and it was his job at Starlight Studio show them which direction to take.

It was never a better feeling than to meet someone brand new to dancing, working with them for weeks on end and then have them show the fruit of their labor. All the hard work _finally_ being paid off. All the sweat, all the tears, and all time finally culminating into this final dance. _He_ had done this. _He_ had taught this person everything they know.

In those few moments, Goro wasn’t entirely worthless as a human being.

“Great work everyone, let’s take a fifteen-minute break.” Goro claps his hands after they had made solid process on an electric boogaloo.

“Thank _god_ ,” Sakura-san exclaims, flopping down on the floor where she stood. “How much longer do we have to do this crap?”

“You still have two hours on your appointment, so if you need to-“

“Aw, don’t worry about her, Akechi-kun,” Takamaki-san slides over, slinging an arm around his back. “She’s just being dramatic.”

Goro freezes at the sudden touch but doesn’t back down as she giggles in his ear. “I see.” He gives the two a strained smile. “I was starting to worry that I had overworked you guys too hard.”

“Naw, man. You’re doing just fine,” Sakamoto-san joins in, giving Goro a bright smile. “So, when are you gonna teach us how to breakdance?”

“Ryuji!” Takamaki-san scolds the other blonde.

“Well, it’ll depend on which part of breakdancing you’re wanting to learn. There are four different parts to this style of dance including toprock, downrock, power moves, and freezes.” Goro explains. “Which one are you referring to, Sakamoto-san?”

“The top-wha?” Said blonde asks in confusion. “Dude, I just want to try out that spinning move.”

“Ah, so a power move is what you’re looking for.” He shakes his head. “I don’t recommend it to newer dancers since it’s a more advanced dance move. It requires the dancer to have the perfect amount of momentum, speed, endurance, strength, flexibility, and control in order for someone to execute properly without hurting themselves.”

Sakamoto-san lets out an impressed whistle. “Really? That’s so epic! Can you do it?”

Goro nods, “I can, yes.” And now he’s going to ask-

“Can you show us?”

And there it is. Goro lets out a chuckle at the male blonde’s antics. Sakamoto-san was very easy to read, but it was oddly charming and comforting to talk to someone with their heart on their sleeves.

“Sure, I can show you.” He points to a dance mat resting on his shelf. “Can you grab the dance mat for me? I have to stretch more before I attempt this.”

“Holy shit! For real? Thanks man!” Like an excited puppy, Sakamoto-san does as asked and pulls out the dance mat for the other man to perform on. He finds an open area near the front of the room and unrolls it for Goro to stretch on.

After some toe touches and a backwards bridge into a handstand, Goro is ready to begin. He lays his left hand on the ground and lets his other hand come to rest next to it as he propels his legs up and around. Letting the forward momentum take him, Goro keeps his legs swinging around in a windmill motion as his left hand touches out to keep him upward after every turn. He only allows himself a handful of turns before propping both hands on the ground, his head resting on the floor and his legs hosted sideway above him in a freeze move.

A series of claps and whoops of excitement has him blushing and Goro pushes upward with his hands and back upwards onto his feet. “And that’s how you do the power move called the windmill,” he mutters, embarrassed that he now had the entire room’s attention.

“That was freaking awesome, man!” Sakamoto-san exclaims, rushing up to meet him. “You were all like _whoosh_ and then like _bam_! It was so freaking cool! You totally have to teach me how to do that after I’m better at dancing!”

“Ah… sure. I can do that, Sakamoto-san.” Not liking the attention he was getting, Goro hurries to picks up his mat and goes to reset it back into its proper place.

“Um, Akechi-kun,” Takamaki-san speaks up, twirling her hair in obvious nervousness. “Would you like to call us by our first names? It seems way too weird that you’re the only one not a first name basis with us.”

“I have noticed that it’s rather strange for Akechi-san to be the only person here calling us by our last names,” the dark-haired artist spoke up.

“Yeah! Being called Sakura-san gives me the super creeps. That name is for Sojiro only!”

Goro hesitates. “Are you sure? This is only our second meeting and I’m your dance instructor.”

“Lighten up, man. We can still call you by your last name if it makes ya feel better,” Sakamoto-san beams at him.

“Totally! We actually prefer being called by our first names anyway,” Takamaki-san adds.

Okumura-san gives him a sweet smile. “We’d also like to be your friends as well, Akechi-san. If that’s okay with you, that is!” She fidgets under his gaze.

Goro looks over the two remaining people who haven’t given their input. They both give him a nod and smile in return that further cemented his defeat in the conversation. He lets out a dejected sigh. “If you’re all truly okay with me calling you by your first names, I have no right to refuse.”

Saka-Ryuji lets out a whoop in excitement and slings his arm around Goro’s shoulders like Ann had done before. “Nice to have ya, man!”

Slowly getting used to how feely the group was with each other, Goro didn’t freeze under the sudden touch this time. Though, it did help that he was able to see it coming this time around. “Aha, thanks,” the look on his face genuine this time; a mixture of unease and hopefulness etching across his features. He winds Ryuji’s arm from his shoulder, ignoring the noise of protest from the blonde, and finds the box of protein bars that he had hidden away for days that he had forgotten to eat breakfast or bring lunch. “Here. You can each take one. It’s important to have something in your stomach while working out.”

A round of cheers later and the group was ready to start dancing once more with renewed vigor from the protein bars and break. It seemed even Morgana wanted to get in on the session as everyone took their preferred places in the room. The cat was satisfied before in just watching the show, but now he was imitating every step Goro and the others made. Normally he’d be worried that someone would trip over the small animal, but the infectious energy that the group was emanating in droves was too hard to overcome.

He felt, for once, like he belonged here. In this moment. With this group. Laughing, teasing, and having fun with these people that he had know for only two days. The energy crackled under his skin like lightening.

Goro had had his qualms with the group of friends at their first meeting; the underlying mystery of what connected this ragtag company together eluding him and putting him on edge. But after hours of spending time with them and learning their little quirks, strengths, and weaknesses, Goro finally understood what made them work so well together.

They were all outcasts.

He saw Ryuji Sakamoto. At first glance he screamed nothing but delinquency, but he also truly had a heart of gold and was loyal to a fault to those he cared about.

He saw Ann Takamaki. Her beautiful features hid a fire so bright and hot that it threatened to burn everything it touched to ashes.

He saw Yusuke Kitagawa. An eccentric artist that housed years of social depravity and abuse in both physical and mental forms.

He saw Makoto Niijima. An uptight perfectionist that was naïve to everything that wasn’t written down in a textbook or other written form.

He saw Futaba Sakura. A former shut-in whose anxiety rivaled those of the best but housed so much strength and determination that it was pouring out of her in droves.

He saw Haru Okumura. A prim and proper high-class noble woman that, just vibrating under the surface, housed a soul that didn’t hesitate to cut you down if you had wronged her or those close to her.

Then, finally, he saw Akira Kurusu. He hid behind large coke bottle glasses and unassuming nature but housed a heart so large that others couldn’t help but be drawn to the man. He radiated warmth and understanding in every movement and unfiltered glaze he made. Loaded with a sassy attitude and underlying cockiness, Akira Kurusu was an enigma that Goro still didn’t have a full grasp of.

Akira was a chaotic whirlwind one moment and a soothing stream the next. It was so exhilarating to be challenged for once that Goro couldn’t help but follow along the path of destruction that the other always seemed to make in his wake.

Maybe, with this group of close-knit friends, Goro would finally be accepted as himself.

Not as the pleasant man that he had painstakingly crafted for the outside world. Not as the professional dance instructor. But as him, Goro Akechi. A broken and unwanted child that had buried anger and rage deep into his heart. The Goro Akechi who had been cast aside too many times to count and beaten down by an oppressive societal hierarchy.

The Goro Akechi that was an outcast just as they were.

It should scare him more how quickly he had placed his hope and trust into a group of people that he had spent mere hours with, but Goro couldn’t bring himself to care. He never had other people his age that he had ever _wanted_ to be friends with. Other than his supposed adopted family of the Starlight Studio employees, everyone else had just been as fake as he was. With Goro’s legendary trust issues, he had never ever considered any kind of intimate relationship with other people that didn’t match up to his inhuman standards.

But then there was… He quickly shook the thought from his head. He really didn’t want to think about that right now. Not when he was having so much fun teaching and dancing with this unique group of people.

“Good work today everyone,” Goro said, giving silent approval to everyone in the group two hours later.

They really did work hard for their first day. It had only taken an hour of the session for Goro to approve of their continued patronage. No one in their right minds would work that hard, after all, without being completely serious of being taught how to dance.

“Feel free to catch your breath and stretch out your muscles in our remaining time together. Also, be sure to visit Marie before leaving today for future appointments with us.” He pauses, “Oh! That’s right. Haru and Makoto, may I ask you some questions before you leave today? I would like to finalize which dance style I would like you two to try out.” The two girls nodded, continuing to stretch out their legs via a forward butterfly stretch.

“What can we do for you, Akechi-kun?” Haru asks.

“I was wondering, Haru, if you had any background in ballet? The way you tended to balance on your toes during some of practice had me wondering if you had practiced it at some point.”

“Oh! I have actually!” She giggles. “It was so long ago though; I’m impressed you were able to notice.”

He gives her a proud smile. “Comes with the territory.”

She giggles again and turns to the girl beside her. “And what about Makoto?”

“Ah, yes,” he turns to other girl as she gets up to start stretching her arms out. “As for you, Makoto, I was wondering if you practice any martial arts in your free time?”

Makoto gives a small blush. “I do actually…” She trails off. “But I’ll be impressed if you’re able to find anything for me to dance to, Akechi-kun. Even I can tell I’m a lost cause when it comes to this subject.”

She certainly wasn’t wrong. It was evidently early on that Makoto had no idea how to loosen up during practice this morning. Her movements tended to fumble on the faster paced dance moves and her joints tended to lock into place during others. “Don’t worry,” he gives a small laugh. “I do have some idea on what style you should focus on. I just needed that information to cement it.” He raises his hands up to settle her down, an evident protest lingering on Makoto’s lips. “My goal isn’t to unteach you anything that you’re already familiar with, but to help you grow from what you already now.”

She hesitates, mulling on Goro’s words. “…If you’re so sure you’ll be able to teach me, then I’ll place my trust in your expertise.”

Knowing the admission couldn’t have been easy for her, Goro doesn’t push it any further. “As for the rest of you,” he raises his voice to grab the rest of group’s attention. “Please gather around. I would like to discuss my plans for you guys for the last fifteen minutes of your appointment.”

The group gathers around him, pure enthusiasm radiating out from each person. Goro takes a deep breath and continues.

“After watching each of you dance today I have concluded my recommendations of which instructor I would like each of you to work with from now on to hone your own styles.” He turns to Yusuke and Ann. “I would like you two to work with Chie Satonaka. She’s an expert at street dancing and hip-hop dance styles. With how you two move, it would be a good idea to work with her.” He then turns to Ryuji and Makoto. “I would like you two to work with Kanji Tatsumi. He’s an expert at breakdancing and all its different forms. You’ll do well with him.” His attention turns towards Haru. “I would like you to work with Yukiko Amagi. She’s our expert on classical dancing styles. She’ll help you hone your already budding talent for ballet.” Then, finally, Goro focuses on Akira. “And I would like you to work with Yu Narukami. He’s an expert at free style and his expertise will help hone your abilities to its fullest potential.”

Finished with his longwinded explanation, Goro shifts his feet in unease from the sudden stifling atmosphere within the room. The group had gone unnaturally quiet from his words and Goro could feel the sweat forming on his neck from nerves. Did he say something wrong? Why weren’t they saying anything?

“You mean…” Haru’s soft voice finally speaks up. “We won’t be working with you?”

Her words hit him like a jackhammer. They thought… he would be teaching them from now on and not the other instructors? Goro had never been in a situation like this. His service at Starlight Studio had always been to help people towards the real experts and choreographing dances for clients that _already knew_ how to dance.

He hated that he had to give up the group to be taught by the other members at the studio, but there wasn’t anything he could do. He knew that they would leave after this session and blossom under someone else’s tutelage from the very beginning. The extent of further interactions with them being adhered to chance encounters in the lobby and the occasional check in on their progress.

It hurt more than he would like to admit.

“Oh, um,” he gave a nervous laugh refusing to let his voice break. “I believe there’s been some kind of miscommunication somewhere. My job is to help new clients find an instructor to be taught under. My specialty is choreographing new dances for clients who are already familiar with their own style of dance.” He gives the group a bright smile, hoping that nothing of what he was feeling was leaking through. “I’m very sorry for the misunderstanding.”

_Please leave it alone and move on already. There’s nothing to be done._

“Then we’ll do just that,” Akira speaks up.

_Thank god._

“I’d be glad to help each of you find time with the other instructors in the month timeframe you have requested,”

Akira shakes his head. “Nope. We’ll be staying with you, Akechi-kun.”

_Wait. What?_

“W-what do you mean, Akira?” He takes a step back as the other takes a step forward. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Akira gives him a mischievous smirk. “As I said, we’ll do exactly that. We’ll hire your talents for the end goal of you putting together a group choreographed dance for us.” He locks eyes with the shocked dance instructor, not taking no for an answer. “That should be fine,” he takes another step forward and fully challenging him. “Right?”

Goro had really underestimated the other man. Akira could be downright devious when he wanted to be.

_And that’s not at a bad thing at all._

“So, let me get this straight,” Goro stands up taller, taking the challenge straight on. “You would like me to continue working with you and your friends, honing each of your talents with the end goal of choreographing a group dance that utilizes all of your dancing styles?”

Akira’s smirk grows and he shoots him two finger guns. “Bingo.”

He couldn’t help it. He really couldn’t help it at all, and maybe he didn’t want to, as gut-busting laughter enveloped his entire body. It had been oh so many years since he had bellowed out laughter like this and it was all thanks to a man that had twisted his words and challenged him on every level of his entire being.

This little _shit_ had bested him at his own game and Goro couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Not one bit.

When the laughter had finally left his system, Goro opens his eyes to find each person with their own level of nervousness. Even Akira’s earlier cockiness was barely hanging on by a thread as he, by nervous habit, started twisting his hair between his fingers.

It was Morgana’s concerned meow that finally drew Goro out of his dazed stupor. “That’s…” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He clears his throat and tries again. “That’s fine. I can work with that.” Seeing that his words barely got through, Goro rolls his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to be working with all of you for the month to come. Please take care of me.”

One second the group was shocked silent and the next they were jumping in place and squealing in delight once his words had finally sunk it. It was… nice to be wanted for once. Goro left light and butterflies were in his stomach as everyone made their rounds hugging him and giving him well wishes for the days to come.

It was a feeling that he could get used to.

Since the instructor didn’t have his next appointment until two o’clock that afternoon, the next half hour Goro helped the group on formulating a plan on who got what timeslot with him and when they all had openings for group practice sessions. He would normally gripe about filling up so many of his openings for a handful of the same people, but the warm and happy atmosphere that the others were giving him just because they wanted to spend time with _him_ , of all people, he decided to let it go.

“I think we’re all set.” Goro flips his printed schedule back to the first page. When he had informed Marie of the groups continued patronage with himself, she had given him his current schedule to pencil everyone in without so much as a snide comment. She was up to something, but he didn’t know what.

“Awesome,” Ann stretches her arms out with a sleepy smile.

“I think that went really well,” Haru says. “Should we head back to LeBlanc for some coffee and curry to celebrate?” Sleepy agreements all around and the group gets up from the floor of Goro’s dance studio room to gather their things.

“LeBlanc?”

“It’s the café we mentioned earlier this morning that Akira lives above,” Makoto explains.

“Would you like to join us?” Yusuke offers. “You simply must try their curry and coffee combination.”

“My mom scientifically made the curry recipe specifically to match Sojiro’s coffee!” Futaba boosts. “Come on! Come on!” She attempts to push him out the door. “Join us!”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to decline your invitation,” Goro replies, genuinely saddened that he couldn’t join the group of friends at the café. “I still have other clients that I must attend to later today.” The group visibly deflates at his rejection.

“Some other day than,” Haru offers.

“Yup! Feel free to stop by any time, Akechi-kun,” Ann’s usual bright nature warms up the dejected group. “LeBlanc is right off of the Yongen-Jaya station if you ever want to come visit!”

“I’ll keep it in mind, thank you.” Right off of Yongen-Jaya, huh? It actually wasn’t that far from his own apartment; he could work with that. “I’ll be sure to come try the curry the next time I have some time off.” He walks with the group out to the lobby and holds the door open for them to exit. “Have a good rest of the day everyone and I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Ryuji,” and gets a thumbs up in response.

Just like the day before, Akira is the last one out and lingers in the doorway instead of leaving like the rest of his friends. Learning from past experiences, Goro braces himself for whatever came out of Akira’s mouth.

“Be sure to come visit me soon, Akechi-kun.” He smirks. “Café LeBlanc will _always_ be open _just for_ _you_.” Satisfied with the blush creeping up the dance instructor’s face and neck, Akira gives him a quick wink and saunters off down the street.

_That little. Piece. Of. Shit._

Goro massages his temples in frustration and opens the lobby doors to reenter the building. He needed to get his head on straight and get ready for his next client. However, even after several different appointments and time under his belt, Akira’s flirting at the doorway continued to ricochet in his head throughout the rest of the day against his will.

*~*

**Phantom Thief Group Chat**

**Joker** : sos

 **Panther** : whats wrong, joker?

 **Oracle** : his bi asss on firre 4 asskechi

 **Joker** : guys, i’m serious. pls send help

 **Noir** : So, this isn’t about your crush on Akechi-kun?

 **Joker** : i never said that

 **Oracle** : (;¬_¬)

 **Joker** : but did you see his ass?

 **Joker** : i thought i was gonna die when he showed us that kick drop move

 **Fox** : It was indeed very impressive. The vast amount of dancing styles you can do with the human body astounds me.

 **Skull** : but did u c that breakdance move!

 **Skull** : so freaking cool!

 **Fox** : Indeed.

 **Queen** : Skull, you have the morning appointment with Akechi-kun, correct?

 **Skull** : yup

 **Queen** : And Oracle, you have his afternoon appointment?

 **Oracle** : righto

 **Queen** : I expect the both of you to be on your best behavior.

 **Skull** : yes, queen!

 **Oracle** : (￣ω￣)

 **Oracle** : hey joker

 **Oracle** : could u

 **Oracle** : maybe

 **Oracle** : cme with mee tomrrow

 **Oracle** : ?

 **Joker** : sure

 **Joker** : not comfortable being alone with Akechi yet?

 **Oracle** : nooo

 **Joker** : i’ll pick u up at 12

 **Oracle** : (●´□`)♡

 **Panther** : say hi to Akechi-kun 4 me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on Starlight, Akira's POV and disaster bisexual ass.


	4. May 4th

Classes felt like they were going at a snail’s pace this morning. Akira even swore that, at one point, time was even going backwards. Finally back at LeBlanc after two grueling business classes, Akira places his backpack at the usual place on his desk and pulled out his workout clothes…

Just in case Akechi wanted to give him extra lessons. Yeah… that’s why.

The plan was that he was only going to Starlight Studio today as moral support for his surrogate sister, but whatever. Futaba already knew that he was crushing hard on their dance instructor, so she shouldn’t be _too_ mad about him acting like an absolute moron during the session and making googly eyes at Akechi’s sinful ass.

Fully packed and ready for the later dance lesson, Akira flops down on his bed and plugs in his phone to peruse through his social media. Most of his Instagram was riddled with Ann’s modeling updates while his twitter was overtaken by Futaba’s current videogame rant.

He opens his YouTube app next, checking for any updates on the few YouTuber’s that he follows and Akira chokes when he finds a new video on Akechi’s channel. With zero hesitation, Akira clicks open the video and is slightly confused when the usual dance studio was replaced with what looked like a gymnastic floor. He only knew the bare minimum on what floor gymnastic entailed from the Olympics, but the facility looked highly professional from his marginal focal point.

Two red-haired girls enter the scene, both carrying ribbons and moving in sync with each other. Even though there was music playing in the background as the two girls moved around the flooring, it was full of static and probably came from the loudspeaker the gymnasium provided. Not at all like the degree of professionalism that Akechi had in his other videos.

The two girls abruptly stop mid-song and, whoever oversaw the music, shuts it off as well. Akira wondered how this video related to Akechi at all until he appeared on screen with the girls in the middle of floor and started giving tips on their performance and how the first half felt. The last few bits of video showed text overlaying the visuals of Akechi and the girls. The words informed the viewer that, due to unfortunate events, Starlight Studio wouldn’t be featuring any more videos with the Yoshizawa sisters as promised.

Akira vaguely recalled in Akechi’s last video mentioning a collab with a famous gymnastic duo. He didn’t remember whether or not it was the sisters in this video, but to be fair, he was far too busy paying attention to Akechi speaking. It was the first time he had heard the dancer’s voice and it was way too mesmerizing _not_ to be completely drawn into at that moment.

Losing himself to another round of Akechi’s dance videos, Akira didn’t notice the steps up LeBlanc’s stairs and his newly installed door opening into the refurbished loft until Futaba threw one of his many desk plushies at his face. Pulling his neglected black frost plush from his face, Akira finds his surrogate sister making a face at him.

“Ugh. Can you not be gross while watching Akechi’s vids when I’m here?”

“Ugh. Can you knock?”

She waves him off. “Too much work.”

Akira rolls his eyes at his sister’s antics and stands up from the bed. Double checking that he had everything he needed before heading to the studio, Akira gives Futaba a thumbs up. “Ready to head out?”

“Without my morning coffee? You’re crazy.” She rushes past him and heads for the stairs. “I want my usual in extra-large if you’re bringing pretty boy coffee too. I need all the caffeine I can get!”

“You’re not eating curry before working out, Futaba.” He grimaces. “Very bad idea.”

She pauses outside the door, waiting for Akira to lock up his room. “Is this about the time when you and Ryuji had a spur of the moment run around Inokashira Park and-“

Fumbling with his keys to lock the door to the loft, Akira interrupts her. “Yup. Ryuji had the bright idea of, after stuffing our faces with curry, to run off the calories with a lap around the Park.” He shudders thinking about that horrible evening. “And I decided to indulge him.”

Futaba scrunches up her face in disgust. “Yeaaaaah. I’m tots not doing that. Having stuff coming out both ends at once doesn’t sound appealing, like, at all.” She puffs up. “Besides, I don’t have time for that anyway. I’m getting my new game today!”

Making their way down the stairs now, Akira racks his brain for information. “You mean the one that you had preordered back in September? The deluxe edition, right?”

“Yeah!” Futaba squeals. “It’s the remake of my favorite Featherman R game from the Playstation 2!” She cackles. “The game takes advantage of the PS4’s GPU of 4.20 TFLOPS and the combat was even updated to either classic JRPG or real time attacks!”

As Futaba continues her gushing on the new Featherman R game, Akira pulls on his LeBlanc apron and gets to work on making drinks for himself, Futaba, and Akechi. The dance instructor had seemed to really enjoy the way he had made his drink last time and Akira felt a little self-gratification on guessing right. This time he was going to add a little bit of cinnamon to spice up the drink and see how Akechi reacted.

Sliding Futaba’s coffee in a to-go cup across the counter to her when he was finished, Akira hangs back up his apron and waves goodbye to Sojiro. Shoving the other two drinks into a drink holder, he meets a bouncing Futaba at the door.

“Ready?”

“Yup! But ‘kira.” She shifts her feet when they get out on the street. “Don’t be mad…” Her eyes don’t meet his. “But I really haven’t eaten anything yet today.”

Akira stops and stares his sister down. “Futaba.” His voice is steel. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon.”

Futaba holds her arms up in defeat. “I know! I know! I just,” she fidgets under his gaze. “Forgot?”

He sighs, giving up against the obvious lie knowing that she had, more than likely, stayed up all night again and slept in. “To the convenience store then.”

Widening her stance and pointing to the sky, Futaba smiles wide. “To the convenience store! The rest stop for all heroes young and old!” She exclaims.

“Right. Right.” Akira gives his sister an affectionate head rub. “May such a sacred place never be defiled by evil intent.”

After grabbing a couple onigiri to munch on and two seats onto the train heading over to Shibuya, Akira discusses with Futaba about her new game. By the time Futaba had had enough of gushing over the Featherman R game (for now at least) and with plans to go with her to pick it up after the dance session, the train had arrived at Shibuya Station.

“You ready?” Akira questioned.

Futaba groans dramatically. “Dancing would be so much better if it wasn’t such a workout. How do Kpop stars make it look so easy?” She sticks her tongue out as they exit out to central street. “It’s cheating,” she whines under her breath.

Akira laughs. “It’s only their job, after all. They _have_ to make it look easy and fun.”

She mulls over her brother’s words and shakes her head. “Still! If we were in the Metaverse this dancing thing would be a piece of cake!” Futaba punches the air in front of her as she fended off imaginary shadows. “Even Akechi wouldn’t stand a chance at my amazing skills there!”

“Says the only non-combat Persona user in our group,” Akira jabs.

“Hey! I resent that you know!” She then whirls on him and starts punching him instead of her imaginary shadows. “I could totally take on a shadow if my job as navi wasn’t so important! I’m the only reason you guys have lasted so long!” Futaba puffs up in pride and stops punching him; fully satisfied that she had won this fight.

“So, the four palaces, including your own, we cleared before you joined us was just a fluke?”

“Now you’re getting it!” Futaba exclaims.

Akira shakes his head with a small smile and follows a bouncing Futaba onto the steps up to the Starlight Studio. “And here I thought it was my amazing skills as leader and wildcard that brought us this far.” He gives her an affectionate shove and opens the door to the studio, mock bowing to her and balancing the drink tray with all the grace he could muster as laughter shook his frame. “After you Most Valuable Team Member, Futaba.”

Cackling and with her nose held high, Futaba walks into the studio as directed. “Yo! Where ya at, Akechi?”

“Right here.”

Akira enters the studio and locates Akechi’s voice. Said boy was seated at the receptionist desk, Marie nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Marie?” Akira asks, looking around the lobby for the girl.

“Not sure.” Akechi shrugs. “I had to finish some work on a computer and my old laptop wasn’t going to cut it.” He gets up from the desk and dusts off his pants. “She ran off at some point saying that I can take over her job if I was going to be here anyway.” He puts on a pleasant smile. “However, Akira, I don’t mean to be rude, but why are here? I thought this was Futaba’s timeslot.”

“Um..” All of Futaba’s bravo from before had vanished in an instant as Akechi asked why the other boy was here. “You see… I… Umm… Hmmm.” She fidgets and hides behind Akira.

“I’m here for moral support.”

Futaba perks up and points at Akira. “Yeah! That!”

Akechi raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push it any further. “That’s fine.” Looking over Futaba hiding behind him, Akechi’s eyes catch on the drinks in Akira’s hands, the question lingering on his lips.

Akira gives him a smirk and grabs the one marked with Akechi’s initials and hands it over. “I know it’s a little late to drink coffee, but I thought I’d bring you one too since I made some for Futaba and I already.”

The expression on Akechi’s face as he handed over the coffee was a mixture of appreciation and relief. It was also one of the few honest reactions had seen from him so far. The plastered on pleasant smiles and customer service enthusiasm probably fooled a lot of people, but Akira was a master at masks. He noticed Akechi’s hidden interior the second he met him and now he was trying to slowly clink away at the other boy’s armor. The flirting from before had been just that; a way to get past Akechi’s armor and see a genuine reaction from him. Akira, of course, meant the flirting in every way, but it was also one of the few ways he could see underneath that mask of his. It was thrilling and danced on danger at every turn.

And he was enjoying every second of it.

How would Akechi react to this? Or that? Experimenting on words and clinging onto certain reactions was a game that Akira was all for. He would have backed off long ago if Akechi wasn’t reacting to the flirting, but he most certainly was. Akechi may have been caught off guard the past few times, but he was formulating a plan back and Akira could tell.

It was exhilarating to be challenged like this. Yeah, he had had crushes in the past, but nothing like this. White hot and bordering on obsessive. Fast and breathtaking was now the norm around the other and it was a new feeling for Akira and not at all a bad one.

“Cinnamon?”

Akira had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed that Akechi had already grabbed his drink and had tried it when he wasn’t looking. He had missed the other’s reaction to the added spice. Damn…

“Yup!” Akira twists his hair in nerves. “I remembered you liked how I made your coffee last time and decided to spice it up a bit.”

Akechi gives him a sidelong glance and takes a longer sip of his drink his eyes never leaving Akira’s. “Not bad.” The Phantom Thief leader tries to hide his shiver from the husky tone. “Guess I’ll have to move up my visit to LeBlanc to get a fresh batch of your coffee.”

_Quick! Think of something witty to say back!_

Hands on hip, Akira gives Akechi a smirk that he hopes is suave enough. “Oh? Have I moved up in the rankings of your coffee favorites?”

Something flashes in Akechi’s eyes and Akira takes that as a good sign. “Maybe.” He pauses, letting the words echo through Akira’s head. “Guess we’ll find out during my visit.” Giving Akira one last sultry look, Akechi turns and starts heading down the hall to his studio room. “I think it’s about time we get started on today’s lesson,” he informs the two waiting Phantom Thieves.

“Could you guys be any grosser?” Futaba whispers to him as they catch up to the dance instructor.

He gives her an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

She sticks her tongue out at him as they reach the open and waiting door. “I get first dibs on planning your wedding for having to put up with this.”

Akira chokes at her words and feels a blush envelope his face as he stumbles over his feet into the studio room. “Futaba!” He shout whispers back at her, hoping that Akechi hadn’t heard that bit.

The only response he gets is another cackle as Futaba claims her spot in the corner that she had made hers yesterday.

Akira mutters under his breath about how evil he could sister could be and sets his bag down somewhere out of the way. He finds Akechi messing with a DVD player under a moderately sized television and moves over. “Need any help?”

Akechi shakes his head and continues finicking with the DVD player. “No thank you. Aha!” The dance instructor says in triumph as the television turns on and the bouncing DVD logo fills the screen. “I think I’m all set on my end.” He turns and regards the younger girl huddling in her corner. “How about you, Futaba?”

“Yup. Yup. All good too. On my end. Yeah…” Her eyes flick to Akira for support and he gives her a reassuring smile. His sister has come a long way from back in High School, but meeting someone in a foreign situation and place with expectations to succeed in said situation always turned her back into an anxious mess. Akira feels a wave of pride as Futaba takes a deep breath and forces herself to look directly at Akechi. “Alright! Let’s do this thing!”

Even Akechi looked a little impressed by Futaba’s bravo and begins instructing her to start stretching with him to warm up their muscles. Akira takes a seat out of the way and watches the two warm up together.

Finishing up with some lunges, Akechi walks over to the waiting television and taps the DVD player. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re an otaku right, Futaba?” She nods, confused by the question. “Well…” Akechi trails off, figuring out how to word what he was going to say. “I noticed yesterday that you weren’t quite… fully interested in the dancing I was showing your group.”

Futaba’s eyes widen and her nerves return. “I… Umm. Well I…”

Akechi interrupts before Futaba could begin spiraling. “No! No. It’s fine.” When Futaba looks at him, he tries again. “I mean to say that I’ve found a solution to that.” He finds the play button on the DVD player and the Lucky Star opening starts to play. “I’m working on choreographing a dance for you that incorporates elements from famous anime dances and Kpop dancing.” He eyes the girl, trying to read her reaction.

“That’s…” Her voice trails off fully in shock. “That’s! So! Freaking! Cool!” She bounces up and down fist bumping the air. “I already know how to do The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya ending dance! Look! Look!” Futaba shifts from side to side, her right arm flicking out and twirling it around.

Akechi gives a short laugh and gives her a round of applause. “I’m glad I guessed right.”

Futaba gives him a look, her eyes twinkling in excitement. “You mean Haruhi will be a part of it too!” He gives her a nod in confirmation and Futaba jumps up. “Yes! See! I told you I could totally do this!” Futaba gushes and turns on Akira. “See! See!”

He gives his sister a shrug and smiles at her excitement even though it had been Futaba herself that was dreading learning how to dance and not him. He was glad that she was finally getting into the dancing lessons and not dreading every minute of it.

With the newfound enthusiasm, Futaba and Akechi get to work teaching her different dance moves from the anime he had chosen for her dance. None of the ones so far, from what he could see, were moves that required a lot of stamina or power to perform for the non-workout-oriented girl. It was nice to see that Akechi had not only taken her interests into account when creating her dance, but her body’s limits as well. Not many people cared enough in those regards nowadays to work with people’s strengths and weaknesses and _especially_ not towards people like the Phantom Thief group.

Akira was so glad that it had been Akechi’s channel that Futaba had found.

Some time later, and a lot of Akira trying not to stare at Akechi, the dance instructor leaves Futaba alone to her dancing. On the television screen, a slowed down version of a dance move played for Futaba to copy on her own. Akechi leans on the wall above him and looks at Akira’s bag.

“No Morgana today?”

He shakes his head. “Sometimes he likes to roam around the back streets of Yongen-Jaya.”

Akechi gives him a quizzical look. “And he comes back on his own?”

“Sure,” Akira glances up at the other. “He’s a smart cat and I trust him.”

“Hmmm,” Akechi hums in confirmation. “It did seem that way. Cats tend to be very judgmental in nature, but it felt like Morgana was scrutinizing everything I did on a whole other level.”

Akira snorts. “Tell me about it. I can’t even stay up past midnight without him yelling at me to go to sleep.”

The leader of the Phantom Thieves didn’t miss the smile that Akechi tries to hide behind his hand at the remark. “He would hate my sleeping style then. I’m terrible at keeping a normal circadian rhythm.”

“Maybe you can take him off my hands for a bit.” He winks. “You can get a better sleep schedule and I can finally have a nightlife.” At the light dusting of red on Akechi’s cheeks, he continues. “Two birds,” he holds up two fingers and smiles wider, “one stone.”

“And the problem of Morgana’s separation anxiety?” Akechi adds, his blush growing but refusing to back down.

“Then I guess I have to nightlife at your place.”

Akechi chokes at the words and his blush spreads to his ears. Akira’s smile is now beaming as he adds another mental checkmark.

_That’s three points for me and one for Akechi._

Trying (and failing) to recompose himself, Akechi makes a beeline for his water bottle. “You can take a break now, Futaba,” he forces out and takes a swig from his bottle as the girl pouts.

“But I almost had it! One more!”

Finding the distraction and latching on, Akechi gives the go ahead for Futaba to show him her progress while he had conversed with Akira. The Phantom Thief stifled a laugh into his sleeve and turns his attention to his sister. She had definitely made progress the last time he had looked up from his phone.

When she finishes, Akira sends her a thumbs up in approval. “Great work ‘taba.”

“Hell yeah! I’ve majorly leveled up since yesterday!” She trains her eyes on Akechi, fetching for a compliment from the dance instructor.

And Akechi delivers with a pleased smile. “Great work. I think we can start on the next step after the break.”

“Woot!” Futaba shouts and makes a beeline for her backpack and snatches out her Switch. “Let me finish this level and I’ll be all set to go for another round!”

“Right…” Akira finds Akechi’s eyes trained on Futaba’s Switch or, more importantly, the Featherman R stickers haphazardly placed on the back. “You’re a fan of Featherman R?”

Sticking her tongue out as she played, Futaba didn’t hear him, so Akira takes this as an opportunity to talk with the chestnut-haired boy again. “She is. We’re picking up the new Featherman R Remake after this actually.” Akira catches the hidden glint at the mention of the game and pushes further. “Are _you_ a fan of Featherman R, Akechi?”

The instructor huffs and looks away. “No comment.”

Akira smirks and takes a step forward as Akechi takes one back. “You know that just solidifies that you are one.”

Akechi scrunches up his nose. “And you think I would be a fan of a children’s show?”

Another step back while Akira follows with one of his own. “Yeah. I do.”

“So, what if I am?” Another step back.

“I think it would be cute if you did.” One follows forward in return.

Akechi eyes him, his former blush returning. “You’re insufferable.”

_Another point for me._

“I aim to please.” Finally giving Akechi his space, Akira steps back and lets the other recollect himself. When the color had returned to normal on Akechi’s face, Akira asks the other what he had been meaning to ask on rocking feet. “Want to come with us? To pick up the game, I mean.”

“That Featherman Remake?” A nod. “I… might be heading that way too for… business purposes. I don’t see why I couldn’t join you.”

Akira beams. “Great! I’ll even treat you to the family diner that I like to visit on Central Street for your troubles.”

“I can pay for my own food.”

“It’s fine, I got it.” Akira waves him off. “Besides, I have to feed the gremlin anyway.” He points to his sister mashing buttons on her Switch and shrugs. “She’ll be cranky the whole way back to Yongen-Jaya if I don’t.”

“The two of you seem very… close.” Akechi seemed to be looking for something on his face, but Akira couldn’t figure out what.

“Futaba is basically my younger sister so that’s probably why we seem so close.” Akira starts to twirl his hair again. “Sojiro, her adopted father, took care of me during my sophomore year of High School and we’ve slowly, the three of us that is, became like family to each other.” He forces his hands behind his back to stop his nervous tick and watches the dancer instructor as he took the information in. He seems pleased with his words and Akira mentally let out a relived sigh.

_Ever the mine field with this one._

Hands on his hips, Akechi nods, fully satisfied. “That does seem to add up. The two of you seemed closer than a normal friendship.”

“Yup, that’s why we’re so close.” A nervous laugh on his end.

An awkward silence fills the air between the two as neither one of them knew what to say next.

“Mission complete!” Futaba’s voice rings through the room, cutting off the awkward atmosphere. “Let’s get movin’ and grooven’ on the next dance move, Akechi!” She jumps up from her spot on the floor and pulls Akechi back to the center of the room. “I’m on all roll! Can’t let this temporary luck stat increase go to waste!”

Akechi gives him one last look over his shoulder when he thought Akira wasn’t looking and resumes play on the DVD. Was that hope he saw on Akechi’s face? He didn’t want to get his own hopes up, but it didn’t seem like he was imagining it. Akira decides, in an effort not to record the lesson on his phone, he opens up the Phantom Thief group chat for a distraction.

**Phantom Thief Group Chat**

**Joker:** some1 save me 4 i have sinned

 **Noir** : You’re at Oracle’s lesson right now, right?

 **Joker** : yuuuuuuuup

 **Queen** : What have you done this time?

 **Joker** : i maybe, just maybe, asked Akechi to have sex with me at his place

 **Joker** : but it was entirely in metaphor!!!!1!!

 **Joker** : kinda

 **Queen** : Kinda?

 **Panther** : i’m not sure how you ‘just kinda’ ask some1 2 have sex with u

 **Panther** : !!!!

 **Panther** : unless it was a witty reply that turned out 2 b sexual?

 **Noir** : I can see that happening.

 **Skull** : me 2

 **Skull** : want me 2 bail u out dude?

 **Skull** : i just finished up at protein lovers

 **Joker** : nah, it’s cool

 **Joker** : the 3 of us are getting dinner together after picking up Oracle’s game

 **Panther** : just kinda u asking him on a date?

 **Joker** : Oracle will b there, so i’m safe

 **Skull** : good luck dude

 **Panther** : and get his phone number!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update. I've been quite busy as of late and this chapter wasn't coming out as I wanted it to.


	5. May 4th (Part 2)

An hour later finds Akira scrapping the remains of his sister off the floor. The girl was being overly dramatic again and refusing to get up from the floor of Akechi’s dance studio once the instructor had announced that practice was done for day.

“Come on Futaba, time to go,” Akira says, hooking his arms under her armpits and lifting her up.

“Don’t wannaaaaaa,” she whines back and sticks out her tongue at Akechi as he muffles a laugh at the duo’s antics.

“Oh?” Akira sets her back down on the floor and flickers her forehead. “You don’t want to grab your Featherman R Remake before the store closes?” He saunters his way back to his belongs and flings it over his shoulder. “And you don’t want a nostalgia steak at the diner on Central? Sure, sure. I read ya. Are coming, Akechi?” Akira beckons the dance instructor over, reeling Akechi into his game of teasing his sister.

Akechi is quick on the uptake and grabs his belongings as well. “Sure.” He grabs a clean towel by the door and, with perfect precision, tosses it on Futaba’s head. “I have a day off tomorrow, so I’ll come back to relieve you from my floor in two days time.”

“Wait!” Futaba screeches. She pounces on Akira’s ankle, preventing him from moving further out the doorway. “I wanna…”

“What was that?” Akira mocks her.

“I wanna get my game and eat steak at the diner!”

“There you go, was that so hard?” Akira picks her back up on steady feet as she grumbles curses at him.

“Meanie.”

“Pay back from earlier.” Akira reminds her as he ruffles her unkept hair in affection.

“Pay back from what?” Akechi asks, handing Futaba a cold water from his fridge.

Akira shoots Futaba a Look and she, smartly, keeps quiet. “Don’t worry about it. Just sibling stuff.” Which wasn’t _exactly_ a lie. “Ready to head out?”

Akechi cocks an eyebrow at the obvious change in subject, but otherwise lets it go. “Yes. Let me hand the keys off to Marie and I’ll be ready to go.” At Akira’s questioning look, Akechi continues. “We have a professional cleaner come in every week to do a deep cleaning and re-polishing.”

“I see, no wonder the studio looks so nice.” Akira greets Marie with a wave as they pass by, heading straight to the door while Akechi hands her his keys. “So, what _business_ do you have in the area?” He asks, holding the door open for Akechi and Futaba.

The dance instructor shoots him a glare and heads for Central Street; pointedly ignoring the Phantom Thief’s question. The trio walks in electrifying silence for several minutes until the entrance for the game store on Central Street greets them. Futaba skips inside, all former complaints of sore muscles suddenly absent. Unsurprisingly, Akechi heads in after her and Akira is not far behind.

“Real important business tonight, Akechi-sensei,” Akira chuckles.

Akechi sends him another glare, shoving the other boy when the store clerk wasn’t looking. “I have a preorder as well,” the dance instructor says after Futaba gets her own preorder. He hands over his ID to the store employee and, moments later, Akechi has his day one steelbox copy of Featherman R Remix in his hands and a snickering Akira to his left. “I like Featherman, so what?” Akechi huffs when they make it back onto the street.

“So, nothing,” Akira eyes the other. “I think it’s cute.”

A blush dusts Akechi’s face. “I swear to god, Akira Kurusu. One of these days.”

“One of these days you’ll do what exactly, Akechi- _sensei_?” Akira deepens his voice and gets in the other’s space. “I’d really like to know.”

Akechi sputters, looking everywhere but at Akira. “You’re insufferable attitude will, one day, get its comeuppance.”

Akira steps in front of Akechi, forcing the dance instructor to look at him. He gives him, what he hopes, is his best sultry look. “I’m counting on it.” Without missing a beat, Akira twists around and starts the short trek to the diner. “I live for danger.” He looks back to take in Akechi’s expression and was not disappointed. The brown-haired boy was gapping like a fish and his face was beet red all the way down to his neck.

The glare was settling back on Akechi’s face and he made an effort to keep up with the Phantom Thief down the road. “You!” He seemed to be at a loss for words.

Akira gives him a laugh in return and makes another mental checkmark. _Come on Akechi. You’re making this too easy._ The challenge was in both of their eyes as the diner came into view and the two were suddenly reminded that they were, indeed, not alone.

“You guys are super gross, I’m heading inside,” Futaba declares, rolling her eyes.

“Sorry, ‘taba,” Akira apologizes, nervously rubbing the back of his head. Finding a frozen Akechi after Futaba heads up the stairs, Akira gently leads him up the stairs. “Did I go too far?” He offers to the dance instructor as they settle at the usual Phantom Thief meeting table unconsciously and sliding in next to Futaba.

“No.” Akechi answers, fiddling with the menu as his ears turn red. “I didn’t mind.” He picks up the menu and successfully hides his face from the two, ending the conversation there.

Ignoring the noise of disgust from his left, Akira picks up his own menu. He already knew what he wanted, but it gave Akechi a moment to collect himself and pick out his own food. Akira orders the three of them Frui-Tea while they wait on Akechi.

“You said you recommend the nostalgia steak?”

Futaba beats him to the punch. “Yeah! It’s super good, but not as good as LeBlanc’s curry.” Before Akechi could protest, Futaba interrupts him. “And don’t worry about the price. Akira gots it.”

“I’m not made of money,” Akira deadpans in response.

“Hehehe, we both know you have more than enough money to buy us steaks,” Futaba cackles. “Just take it from the funds. It’s totally a necessary expense.”

“I can pay for my own food, it’s not-“

“Nope! Not gonna let you pay for it even after that torture you put me through today,” Futaba declares, making it final.

Akechi turns to him for confirmation and Akira just shrugs. There’s no use fighting Futaba when it comes to this stuff. “It’s fine, I got it.” An idea pings in his head. “As long as you get next time.”

The dancer smirks, getting his own idea and settles back into his seat. “Then it’s settled. I’ll be sure to pick up the tab the next time _you and I_ get dinner together.”

Akira looks the dancer instructor over and gulps when Akechi finds his gaze and holds it in challenge. _Yup. I definitely heard that right._

“We should exchange phone numbers to set a date and time later.” Akechi holds up his cell phone as Akira tries to get past the word _date_.

 _Come on. Keep it cool Akira and give him your number already._ He berates himself and gives Akechi a crooked smile while pulling out his own phone. “Sure. I’ll be waiting for your text.”

After exchanging phone numbers, the waitress finally arrives with their drinks in hand and leaves a few minutes later to put in their food orders. Akira takes a sip of his drink and hums in appreciation. Many restaurants fell into the trap of making their fruity drinks too sweet, but the diner here got the proportions just right. He hears Akechi mimic his own noise of appreciation when he takes a sip from his own Frui-Tea too.

“I’ll admit, I was pretty skeptical when you ordered the drinks for us, but this is actually really good.” Akechi takes another sip and lets it sit on his tongue. “I’m not a very big fan of sweet things, but the tart and bitter aftertaste makes the drink very refreshing.”

“Really?” He’s a little surprised by that.

“Maybe when I was younger,” he shrugs. “I probably liked them a lot more back then than I do now.” He twirls his straw with his fingers and tries to hide his nerves. “There needs to be something to offshoot the taste or I can’t eat it.”

Peering at the dancer, Akira couldn’t figure out if Akechi was so nervous because he was talking about himself, as if the information wasn’t something he normally gave out willingly, or if it was because he was talking about his past self.

_Maybe both?_

Knowing that pushing the other for more information was probably a very bad idea, Akira veers the topic to something a little more comfortable for the dancer to converse in. “How about your opinion on sour things? You have to like them better than Futaba.” He laughs, thinking back on the memory as his sister tries to shush him. “Ryuji brought us some candy to try a couple months ago and Futaba got one of the sour ones.”

“Not my fault! It’s Ryuji’s! I wasn’t mentally prepared for it at all!” Futaba protests, diving for Akira’s phone as he pulls it out.

Keeping the phone out of reach, Akira thumbs open his photo gallery. “I still have the video. You should see her face. It was priceless.” Futaba was going to kill him later, but it was so worth it in the moment. “Wanna see?” A nod is all the confirmation he needs as Akira slides out of the booth and into Akechi’s shared seat instead.

When he starts the video, Akira is totally, one hundred percent paying attention to it and not the warmth radiating from his shoulder where Akechi is touching it for a better view. Or the fact that the dance instructor had to touch his hand to direct the screen into a better angle to minimize the glare of the diner’s lighting and his now his hand feels like it’s _burning_.

_Yup, totally paying attention to the video and not- Is that Akechi’s thigh?!_

At some point Akechi had moved his leg over to rest against his own and Akira was short circulating at the unexpected touch. He risks a glance at the other boy and meets Akechi’s own gaze moments later, a knowing smirk playing across his lips. Akira holds in a bubbling laugh at the look and relaxes as best he can with his heart beating out of his chest. He feels the blush on his cheeks and mentally shrugs. Akechi can have this round.

When the video ends on the freezeframe of Futaba lunging for Ryuji, Akira finds that he’s hesitating to put away his phone. He didn’t want to move from their little less than appropriate position together until Akechi makes the decision for him and slides back across the seat and into a more suitable distance. Right… They’re in a public space and Futaba is with them. Speaking of the girl, Akira finds his sister with half her body sprayed across the table and groaning in frustration.

“Why’d you have to show him that?” She picks herself up from the table and gives the two the best kicked puppy eyes she could muster.

“Rule of siblings: you must embarrass each other at every opportunity you can get.” He receives a glare and a napkin to the face in response.

He’s about to retaliate with his own napkin, but it’s at this instant that their food appears with a smiling waitress in tow. It’s a good thing they’ve been regulars for so long or they might have been thrown out for all the disturbances they were making tonight. Their mock fight gets put on hold for the moment as they dig eagerly into their steaks. After the first few bites of food Akira feels the tight grip of guilt creep in about embarrassing Futaba with that video (she _had_ been a great wingman today). Deciding to make it up to her in some way, Akira makes plans in his schedule to stop by Akihabara later to buy her that figure she had been eyeing up for the last few weeks.

“I’m glad you talked me into ordering the steak, it is quite good here.” Akechi strikes up conversation again after a few minutes of comfortable eating. “I’ll be sure to come here more often since it’s not that far from Starlight Studio.”

“Not before you come try out the curry at LeBlanc!” Futaba presses, pointing her fork at him in mock contempt.

“Yes, yes. I promise to visit sometime soon,” Akechi relents.

“You have a day off tomorrow, right? Come then!”

“Futaba!” Akira scolds, trying to kick her under the table in warning. “Let him rest on his day off.”

“That actually doesn’t sound half bad.” He rubs his chin in thought. “It’ll have to be a little later since the café is a bit of a hike from my apartment.”

Akira is a little stunned. “You looked it up already?”

“Of course,” Akechi turns a little sheepish. “You invited me to come visit yesterday, so I looked up how far it was from my apartment.” He turns to Akira. “I was a little disappointed I couldn’t pick up any of your coffee before work this morning because it was too out of the way.”

He was touched by the confession. Akira was completely serious about the invite to LeBlanc, but he never expected that Akechi had already attempted to come visit him, er, the café the very next day. “Wow.” His voice betrayed how pleased he was, so he tried again after clearing his throat. “Wow. You really missed my lovable charm that much, huh?” He nudged Akechi and gave him his famous smirk.

“Not really,” Akechi gives him a mischievous smirk back. “I was more missing the excellent coffee.”

Akira falls over dramatically in mock hurt. “Oh! You wound me so, Akechi!” He sneaks a peak at the dancer and finds him stifling a laugh. Straightening back up, Akira cuts another piece off of his steak. “But you’ll really come tomorrow?”

Akechi nods. “I’ll come by around noon for lunch. Hopefully there’s not too many customers at the time; I would like to work on some video editing for a couple hours.” He pauses. “If that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” Akechi gives him a questioning look at the tone. “We only get the handful of regulars and the occasional lost customer who needs directions to the subway station.”

“I’m surprised,” Akechi, to his credit, actually did look astonished by this fact. “From the coffee I’ve tasted so far, I thought LeBlanc would have had more foot traffic than that.”

“It’s a little out of the way from any high traffic areas and, well, people tend to not be able to find it even while looking sometimes.” Futaba giggles at Akira’s explanation while he continues. “I can’t count how many times people have come in asking for the café and not even know they were already there.”

Akechi chews over his words. “Thanks for the warning, I’ll be sure to keep my eyes peeled tomorrow, so I don’t suffer the same fate.”

“Very wise.”

“Ugh!” Futaba cuts in. “Can you guys stop flirting in front of me for even five minutes?” Akechi chokes on his drink and Futaba sticks out her tongue at both of the boy across from her. “I’m all for this,” she gestures between them. “But you guys seriously need to chill out.”

Akechi forces his gaze anywhere but at both of them, finding an amusing spot on the wall to look at instead. The Phantom Thief is able to pick up on the muttered, _is there even a this in the first place_ , before he turns away. Akira bumps their legs together and gives him a reassuring smile when the dancer finally turns to glance in his direction.

“Do you want _this_?” Akira gestures between the two of them.

Akechi pauses at the gesture and words, thoroughly thinking over the question in his head before answering. “I would like that dinner date first,” the dancer concludes after some time.

Akira beams at the response and Akechi has to look away in embarrassment. “I’m looking forward to it!”

“Ugh!” Futaba complains again, but in good nature this time. “Time! Place!”

“Sorry sis.” Akira should be feeling a little bit ashamed by how discourteous he was acting in public. The amount of teasing he’ll have to endure later by Futaba would be relentless as well, but he was too giddy by his upcoming dinner date with Akechi to care at the current moment.

Akechi clears his throat. “I’ll message you later, Akira, with the details of the dinner. I don’t want to bother Futaba any more than we already have.” The dancer bumps his leg this time into Akira’s and they both share a chuckle.

Futaba sticks out her tongue at them again before dropping the subject. They spend the rest of their time at the diner in uplifting silence as they finish off their food. Akira pays off their bill and the sibling duo wave their goodbyes to Akechi at the train station.

While riding the train back to Yongen-Jaya, Akira resists the temptation to open up a text chat with Akechi. The dance instructor had been the one to officially make the dinner a date (and was paying), so he had to be the one to message first. Akira also didn’t want to mess this up by seeming _too_ clingy and ecstatic about their dinner together. They had, after all, only known each other for four days and the bubbling feelings Akira was feeling for the other in such a short amount of time was getting into some dangerous levels too quickly. Akechi was great, and they definitely had chemistry together, but they hardly knew each other. That’s why he had been so glad that Akechi wanted a date first before finalizing a romantic relationship together. Akechi was serious about this working out, just like he was, and jumping right into things was just a recipe for disaster at this point.

“Your charm stat is way too high,” Futaba comments when they get onto the streets of Yongen-Jaya.

“Hmmm? Why do you say that?”

She gives him a dry look. “Because Akechi totally isn’t the kind of person who gets so close to people so quickly.”

Akira had recognized this fact very early on, but he didn’t realize that Futaba had picked up on it too. “How did you figure that out?”

Futaba scoffs. “Come on, you have to have seen the way he looks at you compared to everyone else. We still get the plastered-on smile and customer service attitude while you get real expressions from Akechi even though we all met him at the same time!”

“True,” he shrugs. “But we’ve already established I just kinda have that effect on people.”

“You talkin’ about that fact that people just tend to flock to your side and act like they’ve been friends with you for years after a couple of hang out sessions?” He nods and she blows a raspberry at him. “Talk about a game breaking ability. Totally not fair.”

He laughs and ruffles her hair as they walk up to the Sakura household. “Thanks for being such an awesome wingman today. Really appreciate it.”

Futaba tucks her game box under her arm and punches his elbow. “I expect double the pay for my services after helping to set up that dinner date with Akechi”

Akira held open the gate and she skips through it. “I’ll buy you that figure you have been looking at as thanks after my shift tomorrow night.” After hearing a whoop of delight from his sister, Akira makes his track back to LeBlanc. He makes plans to brew himself a cup of coffee and to finish up his leftover homework for the coming week.

Sojiro and Takemi are the only ones in LeBlanc when he enters, and he makes small talk with the doctor as he makes himself a study drink. She informs him that his yearly checkup is coming up and to come see her soon. Promising to make an appointment sometime soon, Akira grabs his drink and heads upstairs.

He’s almost done with his homework a couple hours later when Morgana makes his appearance on his windowsill. “How was today’s session with Akechi? Think Futaba is going to make it?”

“Probably. Akechi made a dance around some anime that she’s a fan of.” Akira leans back in his desk chair and stretches out his arms. “After yesterday and the texts I got from Ryuji earlier about his own session, I believe we’re in good hands.”

“Is that your honest opinion or your crush on Akechi talking?” Morgana sighs and drops down from the windowsill onto his bed. “You need to be sure to remember the mission. This palace is different from anything we’ve ever faced before and we can’t afford to make any mistakes if we want to stop the palace ruler before the gala.” He twirls in place to get comfortable and plops down right in the middle of the bed.

“Don’t worry Mona, I know.” Akira lets out an exasperated sigh of his own and gets up from his desk to join the not-cat on the bed. His homework was a problem for his future self to worry about. “I do have my priorities straight. Besides- “he shoves the not-cat into a place better suited for the both of them to lie down comfortably despite the protests, “-Akechi takes his job very seriously. I couldn’t get him to crack _at all_ during yesterday’s or Futaba’s timeslots.”

Morgana eyes him in full disapproval. “Just don’t let your flirting and crush get in the way of us infiltrating the palace and stealing the treasure on time.”

“Oops.”

The not-cat narrows his eyes at him. “What do you mean, _oops_?”

“I maybe, sorta, have a date with him.” Silence. “We haven’t set up a time yet though… or where.” More silence. “It’ll be fine, Mona! He’s also the one who asked _me_ out!”

Morgana ignores him and looks away. “Any ideas on how I can get my own dance? My current form makes it difficult to help out this time around.”

Akira picks him up, with only a yowl in protest, and places Morgana on his chest. When the not-cat doesn’t relax into his new position, Akiras’ fingers find the sweet spot on Morgana’s neck and starts to pet him. He feels the small body relax under the ministrations and hears a small purr escape from him. “You’re not even going to say anything about the date?” He asks, his voice a step up from a whisper. “I haven’t gone on one since High School and it’s with our dance instructor too.” He allows his fingers to stop to allow Morgana a chance to recollect his thoughts, but keeps his hand resting on the not-cat’s back.

The feline flicks his tail from side to side in thought. “I trust your judgement in the matter.” Their eyes meet and Akira receives a small cat smile. “I’m here if you need me, okay?” A pause. “Partner?”

As relief floods his system, Akira gives his feline partner a small smile back and nods. “Thank you… Partner.”

They spend the next couple of minutes in relaxed silence until Morgana has enough with the petting and moves to an open section of the bed to settle down in for the rest of the night. “I still need ideas on how I can get my own choreographed dance to help with the palace.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, but I don’t think you’ll need one.”

All former relaxed atmosphere disappears and Morgana bristles at the words. “But I want to dance too! I can do it! I…” He settles back down and mopes into the sheets. “It’ll be a little harder for me to dance like you guys can, but I can do it! I know I can!”

Akira shakes his head and gives the other a reassuring smile. “That’s not what I meant, Mona. I have another, very important, task I want you to do for use instead.”

“You-you do?”

He nods. “I do.” Akira turns on his side and props his head up on his hand to look over the feline. “Futaba will be too busy with playing the music for our dances and dancing herself to be able to fully navigate us through the palace safely. We need you to be our main lookout for any stray shadows or underhanded move by the palace ruler to keep us safe during our performances.”

Morgana immediately perks up. “I can do that! Nyahaha,” the not-cat cackles. “You guys would be _so_ lost without my thieving genius.”

“Yup. The Phantom Thieves would be nothing without you, Morgana. We would have failed years ago without your infinite wisdom. You truly are the heart of the team.” The obvious sarcasm goes right over the feline’s head as Morgana’s weird cat laugh increases in volume. “Can I count on you for this task?”

“You can count on me, Joker!”

The two of them make small talk as they wind down for bed for the night until Akira’s phone goes off some time later with an incoming text message. Snatching up his phone from the charger, Akira’s heart is in his throat when Akechi’s name flashes on his locked screen.

**Goro Akechi <3**

**Akechi:** Are you currently free to talk?

 **Akira** : sure am :)

 **Akechi** : I’m messaging you about setting up a time for our upcoming arrangement.

 **Akira** : y r u calling our dinner date an ‘arrangement’

 **Akira** : it makes you sound like a 50-year-old businessman

 **Akechi** : Apologies. I do not message people my age very often.

 **Akira** : do u text your coworkers this way 2

 **Akechi** : I do. They also mock me for how I message them as well.

 **Akira** : lmao

 **Akechi** : Back to the matter at hand, what nights are you usually free?

 **Akira** : most of my classes r in the morning, so i’m free most nights unless working at leblanc when sojiro needs me 2

 **Akechi** : I see, other than tomorrow, my subsequent day off is next week Tuesday. Does 6pm work out for you?

 **Akira** : it does ヽ(o♡o)/

Akechi: What is that?

 **Akira** : ?

 **Akechi** : What you put after ‘it does’.

 **Akira** : this?

 **Akira** : ヽ(o♡o)/

 **Akechi** : Yes.

 **Akira** : u haven’t seen text emoticons b4?!

 **Akira** : （＊〇□〇）……！

 **Akechi** : I have not. What is it?

 **Akira** : theyre faces!

 **Akechi** : I guess they could be interpreted as such.

 **Akira** : (╬ Ò ‸ Ó)

 **Akira** : futaba uses them a lot so get used 2 reading them

 **Akechi** : I see.

 **Akechi** : ヽ(ー_ー )ノ

 **Akira** : there u go! i knew u could do it!

 **Akechi** : I wish I didn’t have to.

 **Akira** : now 2 work on ur text speak

 **Akechi** : Please don’t. The way I text is adequate enough.

 **Akira** : fine :(

 **Akechi** : I think it would be wise if I bid you farewell for the night before Morgana starts having a fit with how late you’re staying up. I will see you tomorrow for lunch.

 **Akira** : oh?

 **Akira** : youre not telling me where we’re going 4 dinner on tuesday?

 **Akechi** : I am not. Good night Akira.

 **Akira** : goodnight!!!

 **Akira** : <3

“You’re meeting with Akechi tomorrow too?” Morgana questions from his position next to Akira’s head on the bed.

“He’s decided to take up the invitation of coming over to LeBlanc to try out the curry tomorrow and to work on some of his videos.” Akira explains as he set his phone back down on his charger. He gets up and starts his nightly routine before bed. “He’s not exactly coming to meet _me_.”

“But you’re just an added benefit,” an infuriated Morgana concludes. “Sure.”

“You don’t need to be there with us if you’re uncomfortable about it.” Akira flings his dirty shirt somewhere on the floor and pulls out a cleaner and infinitely more comfier one to put on instead. “But I’ll be good. I’m representing LeBlanc tomorrow.”

“We’re doomed.”

“Thanks for the boat of confidence.”

“No problem.”

Later, and to the sounds of Morgana softy snoring in his ear, Akira gets an idea and takes out his phone again.

**Anntastic**

**Akira** : i need ur help w/ something

 **Ann** : whats up?

 **Akira** : i need dating advice

 **Ann** : HE AGREED 2 A DATE?!

 **Akira** : he’s actually the one who asked me 2 a date

 **Ann** : !!!

 **Ann** : buy me a crepe from that new place in the underground mall

 **Ann** : give me ALL the deets

 **Ann** : then u got urself a deal

 **Akira** : sounds reasonable

 **Akira** : deal

 **Ann** : meet me at the usual place at 9am tomorrow morning

 **Akira** : yes sensei

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Akechi seems a little OC, but, in my defense, I feel like he would be a more toned down version of himself if he was never a part of the Conspiracy or became the Detective Prince.  
> I'm also a huge fan of soft Akechi so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	6. May 5th

It was eight fifty-five the next morning and Akira found himself with two cups of freshly brewed coffee in his hands, and a full wallet for the hour or two to come. He really enjoyed the shopping trips Ann and himself made together but, without fail, they always cleaned out a good portion of his savings.

“Good morning, Akira!” Ann high pitched voice greets him and she latches onto his right arm. He gives her a quick good morning back and hands her the coffee cup in his left hand as he guides them to their destination at the crepe shop in the underground mall.

Ann bounces with every step to the restaurant, pulling him in every direction, and they share a smile when entering the store. The overly sweet scent of chocolate syrup and a variety of fruit overwhelms their senses. Ann immediately heads over to the counter and looks over the menu with sparkling eyes.

“What are you getting? I’m thinking of something fruity,” Ann asks. She finds the extra-large offered size on the board and gives Akira her best puppy dog eyes.

Akira let’s out an exhausted sigh and says goodbye to his wallet already. “Okay. But I expect the gold standards of advice.”

“You know it!”

After ordering their food, (and with his wallet significantly lighter) Akira grabs an open seat at the front of the shop and starts chowing down. He hadn’t eaten yet today, so the Nutella and banana crepe felt heavenly on his tongue. Ann takes a bite of her own, an extra-large strawberry and cream, and immediately starts hounding him for details.

“So! Tell me! How the date come about?!” She squeals and takes another bite. “I would have put money on _you_ being the one who asks the other out first!”

Akira smiles at his friend’s antics and relays what happened at the diner yesterday to her. When he was done retelling the story, Ann had already downed her extra-large crepe and coffee and was looking over the extended menu offered on the table to order something else to drink to cleanse her palate.

Ann giggles into her hand and looks back up at him. “That’s so sweet! And so totally like you guys to do. From what you’re saying, it sounds like you both kinda initiated it and Akechi wrapped it up with a nice little bow.”

Akira nods, a small smile tugging at his lips at the memory. “I agree. I think we were both nervous on whether or not we were sending the same signals, so when I hinted at it, Akechi just went for it.” He cradles his head in his hand and stares into his coffee cup with a dreamy expression on his face.

“I’m so happy for you guys! You really hit it off fast.” She notes. “I’ve never seen you do that before when it comes to romance stuff.” Ann twirls her hair and her eyes widen at a sudden realization. “And it’s also you’re first time dating someone of the same gender, right?!”

“Yeah…” Akira trails off. “I really don’t want to mess this up…” Akira knew he was bisexual from a very young age and have found plenty of men attractive, but Akechi was the first male that Akira had ever really wanted to date. It was very nerve wracking not knowing how to act around a male crush after dating several women in the past.

“I know you won’t.” She takes his hands and brings them up and down in a mock cheer even ending with a half-yelled _yeah_. “Besides, you seem to have some weird power that draws people to you. It’s really impressive.”

Akira laughs. “Futaba said the same thing yesterday.”

“See!” Ann points at his face and flails her other arm around while Akira just laughs again. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about,” she sits back down and mouths apologies to the other patrons for her rude behavior. Ann furrows her brow and locks eyes with him. “But, seriously, what kind of advice would you like to hear about anyway?”

“You said it before, this is the first time I’ve ever dated another guy.”

“Are you looking for guy advice or gay advice?”

“Both and maybe sprinkle in a little advice on how to act on dates in general?”

Ann rolls her eyes. “Number one piece of advice I have for you is just be yourself, Akira.” He blinks at her in confusion. “A lot of people fall into the trap of trying so hard to impress another person that they forget who they are in the process. The reason for dates is to get to know each other. If you aren’t yourself on the first date, it’s close to impossible to show you’re real self later on. It won’t work in the long run.”

“That… makes a lot of sense.”

“Of course, it does.” She twirls her hair in thought. “I also think you can’t really get away with being fake around Akechi. From what I’ve seen so far, you can’t hide much from him.”

“I don’t plan on hiding anything from him,” Akira confesses.

“Not even the Phantom Thief stuff?” Ann whispers and looks him over. “Are you sure about that?”

“If we get together, yeah, probably.” He shrugs and trains his eyes on Ann. “I don’t like keeping big secrets like that from the people who are closest to me. It doesn’t seem right to keep big secrets like that. I feel guilty.”

Ann gives him a reassuring smile, but still seems torn on Akira’s decision. Instead she says, “we’ll always be here if you need us, Akira.” She gets up from her seat and waves the table’s menu in front of his face. “Can I get you another drink? I think this’ll take a while.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll take whatever you’re having.” Akira reaches for his wallet again, but Ann waves him off.

“I got it, don’t worry about it.” She gives him two thumbs up and heads back to the counter to order. While Ann is gone, Akira takes out his phone and looks back over his texts with Akechi. He was glad that the dance instructor was taking their date so seriously, but the element of surprise that Akechi added to their date in not telling him where they were going ate at him. He needed to ask Ann on how to react to a surprise date. What was he supposed to wear? Does he bring a gift? What was the proper etiquette to act around someone on the first date when you’ve already hung out as friends? (Kind of?)

Ann comes back a few minutes later with two boba teas and slides one across the table to him. Akira takes a sip, humming at the mellow honeydew taste, and sets it on the table to continue the advice train. “Since Akechi won’t tell me what kind of restaurant we’re going to, how should I dress?”

“A little nicer than casual unless he says otherwise.”

“Should I bring a gift?”

“If you do, make it small.”

“How should I act since we’ve already hung out?”

“Interested. Ask him his likes and dislikes. Stuff like that.” Ann takes a long drink of her tea. “But make sure you don’t push for anything he doesn’t want to give. You want to make sure he’s comfortable.”

“No problem.” Akira fiddles with his straw, his nerves finally showing their ugly heads.

“Akira,” Ann sighs, throws her napkin at him. “Don’t worry about the small stuff okay? Just have fun and get to know the hot dance instructor better.”

“Is that really all?”

“Yes!”

“Okay…”

“Okay!”

The two spent another half hour at the shop discussing random topics together, like how Ann’s modeling career was going and that morning college classes sucked no matter what subject it was about. They throw away their trash before leaving and head down to the mall area, Ann window shopping as they went.

“Anything in particular you’re looking for today, Ann?” Akira asks after their sixth peak into a random store.

“I was gonna get some new clothing out of you today, but now I think we should get Akechi some kind of gift for your date on Tuesday,” Ann declares and moves away from the current store they were looking into. “It has to be something small. Something that he can use repeatedly. And food and flowers are off the table!” Ann interrupts herself after she notices Akira eyeing up Rafflesia.

“Then what kind of things do you recommend so I can keep an eye out?”

“Nothing that’s one and done like I said, so food and flowers are out. Can’t do clothing either; too personal…” She cocks her head in thought and looks up and down the hallway. “Maybe some kind of office supply or…” They peak into a couple more shops before Ann groans in frustration. “Okay, this is harder than I thought. It’s _so_ much easier shopping for a girl!”

Akira spots a shop and a lightbulb goes off in his head. “Something that he can use repeatedly, right?” Ann nods. “Something that doesn’t cost a lot and not too personal?” Another nod. “How about looking in Babel Records? I can buy him one of my favorite albums to listen to.”

Ann’s eyes light up. “OMG! That’s perfect! Why didn’t I think of that before?” She immediately grabs his arm and drags him inside the desired store. “He can also use it for his job too! Great idea, Akira!”

They head inside and Akira looks over the store. “Do you think he owns a record player?”

Ann hums in thought and shifts through the offered record boxes. “Akechi does seem like a guy who would own a record player, but I’m not sure.” She grabs a random record and looks it over. “LeBlanc has a record player, right? I’d say buy it and ask him later today if he has one then, depending on his answer, either keep it at LeBlanc or use it as your gift.”

“Sounds good. Now to find an album that I like, and he would enjoy too…” He skims through the records, pulling out some that were contenders, but ultimately puts all of them back. After a few minutes going up and down the boxes and declining the few Ann picks out, one album in particular stands out to him. “How about Lyn Inaizumi?” Akira pulls out the record and looks it over. It was her best of hits from the last five years, so he looks over the song list. “Wow. This is a great find.”

Ann gravitates to his side and looks over his shoulder. “Oh! Her! I really like her music. Really jazzy and inspirational.” She finds the price and whistles in amazement. “And with that kind of price, it’s practically a steal! I’d say go with her album.”

“Definitely. Even if this wasn’t a gift, I’d get it. It’s too good a price to give up.” Akira cradles the record to his chest like a fragile baby and walks over to the checkout counter. Paying for the album and meeting Ann outside the store, Akira feels great. His wallet is a lot heavier than it usually was at the end of their meetings, he found a great gift, spent time with one of his best friends, and he felt more comfortable with his upcoming date with Akechi.

Life was good.

Akira feels a hand slap his back. “Okay lover boy! You should be heading back soon so you can clean up before meeting with Akechi.” Ann gives him a bright smile and Akira can’t help giving one equally as bright back.

“He’s just grabbing some curry and working on his videos. That’s all.” It _was_ a weak argument and he already felt the blush turning his ears red when Ann gives him a Look.

“Sure, it is,” she draws out and rolls her eyes. “Just get going already.”

Drawing Ann into a big hug, Akira whispers a heartfelt thank you into her ear before parting ways at the station. “I promise to text you updates.”

“And I’ll hold you to that!” Ann giggles and skips down the stairs to her own train.

Securing the record in his hands, Akira makes his way to his own train back to Yongen-Yaga with a bright smile and warm heart. With everything that happened five years ago and their continued Phantom Thief business afterwards, his life has been anything but normal. Getting nervous over a dinner date and spending almost an hour picking out a gift for said date was such a normal thing to do that he was coming up short on what to do next. It wasn’t a bad feeling, anything but actually, however it was something that he hadn’t even realized that he was craving for till now. Being a Phantom Thief was amazing, don’t get him wrong, but sometimes you just wanted that sense of normalcy in your life. You know?

Akira pulls out his phone while on the train back and reads his texts with Akechi once more. Who knew that one person could hold his thoughts and feelings so much in such a short amount of time? Akira wasn’t stupid though. He knew he was falling and that he was falling fast. He hoped, against all hope, that Akechi felt the same way he was, but only time would tell at this point. Akechi would be at LeBlanc within the hour and Akira makes plans on what he should make the dance instructor during this time.

_Maybe I should make him one of the darker roasts this time? Sojiro mentioned that the curry today was pretty mild. Either way, I hope he doesn’t get lost and give up on visiting…_

*~*

He was lost, because of course he was. Even with the aid of Google Maps and Akira’s playful warning in his ear, Goro had no idea where he was going. The moment he had exited the station and onto the streets of Yongen-Yaya, Google Maps had decided that he was close enough and that his destination was to the left. It was on his fourth pass down the neighborhood when he noticed that a doctor’s clinic, of all things, was hidden on one of the smaller roads. How was anyone supposed to navigate their way through this part of Tokyo? It was a jumbled mess that only the locals seemed to be able to navigate.

Slumped over, Goro admits defeat and makes a pitstop into the convenience store on the main street that he had passed several times in the last half hour. He asks the store clerk for directions to LeBlanc after making a polite purchase of some potato chips for the information. Chips weren’t exactly on the list of foods he would willingly eat, but he needed to purchase something to appease the employee. Besides, he could always push it on Akira anyway for all the trouble of finding the damn café in the first place. Goro had made sure to grab the wasabi and soy sauce flavor for the full effect. It was petty. Extremely so. But he didn’t care _at all_ after all the shit Akira has pulled in the past few days. With a shit-eating smile on his face, Goro starts his way towards the café using the directions the convenience store employee had given him.

LeBlanc, as it turned out, wasn’t that far from the convenience store he had just exited from. Goro had seen the storefront on his trips up and down the streets, but he had thought the café to actually be some kind of storage building than any kind of business that sold food. If he squinted his eye enough at the dirty red and white awning, it did sort of resemble the words coffee & curry LeBlanc in simple black font. The front door did say it was open, but he was still skeptical about the dingy establishment, nonetheless.

Taking in a deep breath before he lost his nerve, Goro carefully opens the door. He’s silently delighted by the fact that it was unlocked, and a bell rang overhead to greet him when he steps inside the doorway, giving him the full go ahead to open the door further. Goro let’s his eyes adjust to the darker interior of the building before taking another step inside and smiles at the familiar head of curly black hair at the counter when they finally adjust to the lighting.

“Hey Akechi,” Akira greets him with a wave. “Have any seat you like. Plenty to pick from.”

Looking over the café, Akira was right that he could have the pick of the crop with his seating since not a single customer besides himself was currently in the restaurant. “I see you were telling the truth about the foot traffic being low at LeBlanc.” Goro grabs the seat at the bar closest to the entrance and sets his computer bag on the chair to his left for easy access.

“Of course, I was,” Akira laughs. “What can I get you today?”

“Surprise me. I want to try out that famous coffee and curry combination that Futaba was raving about the other day.”

“You got it,” Akira agrees and moves over to start on Goro’s brew. “Find LeBlanc okay?”

“Of course. Wasn’t too difficult to find,” Goro huffs and slides the offending bag of chips across the counter for Akira to grab. “Got this for you.”

Akira cocks an eyebrow at the bag. “Wasabi and soy sauce flavor? How did you know it was my favorite?”

“Y-your favorite?” Goro stutters and looks away _. Of course, this piece of_ shit _had to love spicy food._

“Yup.” He sets down Goro’s drink in front of him and picks up the bag of chips, ripping it open to munch on while he scooped up the dancer’s meal. “A lot of brands skimp out on the spiciness for wasabi flavored anything, but this one goes all in. I love to buy a bag of these from the convenience store down the street whenever I study.” Akira smirks at him. “I seem to be _only_ able to find these at that particular convenience store too. Where did you happen to find it?”

Goro quickly waves him off. “Not important.” Akira continues to smirk at him across the bar and Goro feels the heat rise on his cheeks. Why is it that this man was always able to fluster him so easily? _And_ be able to read him so well? It was frustrating… but also refreshing at the same time. He had never met someone able to challenge him so much before. It was invigorating and irritating, but not a feeling that he hated. “What’s on the menu today?”

“Coffee and curry, obviously.” Akira chuckles.

Goro rolls his eyes. “Yes, but what _kind_ of coffee and curry today?”

“You told me to surprise you.”

“That’s not what I- “His eye twitches. “Just give it here.” Goro growls and snatches up the offered plate of food. Okay, it is _good_ , but not what Futaba had hyped it up to be. Goro takes a sip of his coffee and- _oh my god. This is amazing._ He quickly takes in a few more bites of the curry and a big gulp of his coffee. _Okay._ Now _I see the appeal. Even though it doesn’t seem like coffee and curry should be able to mix together, it does, and even compliments each other’s strengths. It might even negate the weaknesses as well. The combination is pure genius, plain and simple._ With that thought, Goro shoves the curry in his face as fast as he physically could and is done with his food faster than he would have liked. Staring at his empty plate in open despair, Goro mulls over the thought of having another order of curry. If it wouldn’t have made him sick, he probably would have, it was that good.

“That good, huh?” Akira offers and grabs his empty dish to wash. “Want seconds?”

“Maybe later,” Goro answers, but watches the retreating plate with a dejected look anyway.

“Reminder! You get free refills on the coffee!” The barista shouts from the sink area.

“I’ll hold you to your word!” He shouts back. At least he could stomach several more cups of LeBlanc’s amazing coffee. With his stomach full and satisfied, Goro unlatches his bag and pulls out his old, trusty clunker of a laptop. It has never failed him so far despite its age, but Goro is reluctant to part with it for a new one. It’s ancient, it’s bulky, and it likes to damage his hearing when it overheats, but it gets done what he needs for work and social media. Anything else he needs can be done through either his smartphone or the front desk computer of Starlight Studio.

“What the hell is that thing? Is it even a laptop?” Akira ask in amazement and leans over the counter to get a better look.

“Yes, it’s a laptop.” He gives Akira seething glare. “And it’s a perfectly fine piece of machinery.”

“That, I highly doubt.” Akira deadpans, trying his best to turn his head and body around enough to see the screen. “Hold on. I need a better look.”

“Fine…” Goro mutters and relents to Akira playing with his laptop as the barista rushes around the bar. Akira slides it towards the open seat to the left of Goro’s own and starts tapping on the keyboard. As this is happening, the dancer’s glare intensifies. Akira hadn’t even bothered to move his bag out of the way before sitting down and it pitifully fell to the wooden floor. The laptop bag was empty now, but the thought still counts.

“You probably shouldn’t let Futaba see this. She might have a meltdown if she ever saw it and then try to modify it into something unrecognizable.” Akira clicks on his editing software and winces at the slow loading rate. “Or maybe you should. Futaba will probably take pity on you and upgrade it to something that’s even better than what you can get on the market.”

“My laptop is _fine_ ,” Goro protests, sliding it back over to his side of the bar. “It does everything I need it to do.”

“It’s better suited to be a murder weapon than anything else. Just look at this thing!” The barista points in exaggeration.

Okay, yeah, his laptop _is_ teetering on around ten pounds, but it still worked and Goro didn’t mind the weight… most of the time. “Anything can be considered a murder weapon if you try hard enough.”

“But that’s not the _point_ ,” Akira groans. “Is the editing software _even open yet_?”

Goro glances down and forces his next words out. “Not yet.”

“If not for your sanity, but for my own,” Akira deadpans and grabs Goro’s hands in his own. “Take the damn upgrade... Please.”

Goro almost immediately rips his hands out of Akira’s hold, but the warmth still lingered on his skin. The touch was electrifying just like it had been yesterday, and it was a jarring feeling, but not an unwelcome one. Goro wasn’t used to contact with other people that was given with positive intent very often. However, Akira’s touch was still different from everyone else’s. Goro had sought out the contact at the diner yesterday too, after all, not just the barista.

He had liked the touch too much not to seek it out.

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone? I have work to do,” Goro gives up after seeing Akira’s puppy dog eyes.

“Only if you promise me to let Futaba take a look at it and work her magic.”

“Okay, yes! I promise already. Now fuck off.” The software had finally loaded, and he wanted to get to work soon. His latest video hadn’t done very well because of how different it was from the rest of his content. This made Goro want to get the next one out as soon as possible and Akira’s presence wasn’t helping in getting him into a productive mindset. Only an Akira-centric one.

“Cool.” Akira hops down from the chair and walks back around to his station behind the bar. “I’ll text Futaba in about two hours or so to come take a look at your laptop so you can get some work done.”

Goro grunts in response and pulls open one of the handful of backlogged videos to work on. It was a duo dance with Rise that was sure to pull in a lot of views and, hopefully, appease his YouTube audience after the cancelation of the Yoshizawa sisters.

While he worked, Akira was sure to refill his drink whenever it got too low or too cool. Goro very much appreciated the silent support and the two fell into a comfortable silence together. He even let Akira get a sneak preview of the video for advice on how to edit certain parts. He was perfectionist, in a way, and Goro didn’t like people seeing his work before it met his high standards, but Akira’s recommendations always felt constructive and never mocking in any way.

He might have to make LeBlanc a routine visit on his days off to work on his YouTube videos. The café was pleasant and quiet enough for his standards and the curry and coffee were some of the best he’d ever had.

 _The company wasn’t bad either._ The stray thought mocks him and Goro shakes his head to push it away.

“I thought you were going to text Futaba,” Goro asks. His eyes flickering up to Akira’s, finding him tranced out and staring at him.

“Huh? O-oh, yeah.” He hears Akira pull out his phone and send out a quick text and getting one in reply a couple seconds later. “Futaba says she’ll be here in a bit. Has to finish up a level in that Featherman R game first.” Goro sees Akira pocket his phone and lean forward on the counter towards him. “Have you started it yet?”

“I have not,” Goro replies, stretching his arms over his head and feeling the satisfying pop in his left shoulder. “I’ve been too busy choreographing dances for seven different people by the end of the month to be able to play it.”

Akira lets out a nervous chuckle. “Sorry about that.”

Goro shrugs. “It can’t be helped. The gala is on June ninth, correct? It’s to be expected.” Goro saves his work, closes the editing software, and the laptop shut; he wouldn’t be able to get anymore work done today anyway with Futaba coming over soon.

“So…” Akira pauses. “Do you prefer the classic, golden years, or modern Featherman R?”

“I prefer all three for different reasons,” Goro trails off.

Akira gives him a soft smile and nods his head to continue, but Goro looks away instead. He wasn’t used to these types of situations and he couldn’t help the sudden wave of nervousness that crashed into him whenever he talked about himself. He takes a deep breath, holds it, and lets it slowly out to calm himself down. Akira had never showed any indication that he was mocking him for his interests, (even if he was a little shit sometimes) so Goro didn’t have any reason to be uneasy talking about these kinds of things with him.

“The classic series is enjoyable because of its campiness and monster of the week formulas. Its take on the super sentai genre is what propelled the series to become so successful in the first place.” Goro pauses, reading Akira’s reaction. It was easy to see the barista’s open expression of eager interest and Goro felt pure delight swell in his chest. “While a lot of people will point to the golden years to be the best of what the series has to offer, everything about it is very lackluster except for its new take on the characters of the classic series and their development throughout the seasons.”

Akira nods in agreement. “Yeah. Futaba forced me to watch the golden years first and I have to agree there. Only the characters were enjoyable. I like the classic series a lot better.”

“Have you seen the modern version yet?”

This time, Akira shakes his head. “I have not. I’ve heard a lot of mixed reviews about it.”

“It does… make the fandom very divided. The modern Featherman R has the characters take a backseat this time around and instead focuses on the serialized story.” Goro sighs and rolls his eyes. “A lot of the fandom should just see each version as its own thing and enjoy the different highs each one brings to the table. However, they’re so focused on the characters from the golden series and want more of that instead of a new take on the concept of Featherman.”

“Spoken like a true fan, Akechi,” Akira snickers.

_Fuck. Did I get too enthusiastic about my explanation? Did I mess this up already?_

“I haven’t seen the modern version yet, so my opinion doesn’t hold much water, but I think you’re right. The dramatic step from a goofy, campy show to a more dramatic in-depth character study already made Featherman a series that tries new things. So, the jump from a character driven show to story driven one instead isn’t that uncommon from the series as a whole.”

“Exactly! They’re not fans of Featherman R; they’re fans of _just_ the golden years of the Featherman R series.” The warmth in his chest was a comfortable companion as they conversed. Akira wasn’t just listening to his stupid rant about a children’s television show, he was also adding on his own thoughts and opinions to the conversation. It was so… gratifying.

“What are you nerds talking about?”

Goro jumps in his chair as Akira takes the moment to straighten back up and off the bar. “Hey ‘taba.”

Goro felt his cheeks flush. He had been so engrossed in his conversation with Akira that he hadn’t even heard the telltale ding of LeBlanc’s bell signaling Futaba’s entrance into the café. Being around Akira always made him so careless. Why?

“Yo!” Futaba comes up behind him and slides into the seat that Akira had vacated hours ago. “So, where’s this travesty of human tech that you had texted me about?”

Willing his blush down, Goro grabs his half empty cup of coffee to hide the coloring on his face from the other two (to little success) and takes a long drink. “Here.” He pushes the closed laptop towards her when he was satisfied with the lack of heat on his face. Goro has to stifle in a laugh when Futaba finally takes in his sad excuse of a laptop and allows her to grab it off the counter in pure amazement.

“This thing still _works_?!” Futaba screeches. She moves it around in her hands, turning it over and examining every side with open astonishment. “I haven’t seen a laptop like this in over ten years. It’s so _old_.” She gently sets it back on the counter and winces. “And so _heavy_.”

Akira’s laugh rings in his ears. “Think it’s salvageable?”

She snorts in reply. “No way. The parts to fix this thing have definitely stopped production. Nothing new will be able to fit into this frame.” Futaba pries open the laptop and makes a small ‘whoa’ when it turns on just fine. “You’ve taken good care of this thing. It’s a miracle it still works.” Her face holds pure admiration as she gently taps on the keys as if afraid of breaking it.

Of course he took good care of his laptop. When you grew up with barely anything to call your own, you needed to take care of the things you did have and make them last for as long as possible.

Goro stares into his empty coffee cup, his memories as a child creeping up on him, until he feels someone’s gaze on his own. Looking up, it was Akira, giving him a warm smile and handing him a new drink and taking his old cup without a word. Goro could tell that Akira wanted to ask about his reaction to Futaba’s statement, but held his tongue anyway. It was twice now that the barista had wanted to pry into his life when his thoughts had consumed him but choose to back away instead and Goro was entirely too grateful to the other. No matter how quickly their relationship was progressing (whatever that relationship may be right now), Goro wasn’t ready yet to spill those beans just yet. To anyone.

“For your contribution to the love of technology, I will part with you a gift!” Futaba says, cutting off his thoughts. “I can’t fix this baby,” she gently pats the top of the laptop, “but I can give you one of my old ones. One of the laptops I’ve modified myself and is still better than what you can get on the market!”

“W-what?” Goro’s mind screeches to a halt. “I can’t take it! It’s too much!” Two gifts given to him in the span of two days and without any hidden malicious intent? He couldn’t handle this. This kind of situation has never happened to him before.

Futaba waves him off like it’s no big deal. “I would rather you have it than have it gather dust in my bedroom.”

“But it’s still a laptop that costs hundreds of dollars!” Goro continues to protest. It didn’t matter if it was something she no longer needed. It was an extremely expensive piece of machinery and Futaba even said that his own laptop was just _fine_. He’d only agreed to an upgrade after Akira had begged him to, he couldn’t take a whole fucking _computer_.

“It only cost me, like, a hundred max to make it. If you don’t take it, I’ll just scrap it for parts years from now, but I’ll have to throw most of it out.” Not letting Goro protest any further, she races out the door, yelling that she’ll be right back.

“Futaba!” Goro shouts, but she’s already out the door. He then turns to the quiet barista instead. “Akira! You need to talk some sense into her!”

“I actually agree with her,” Akira confesses.

“You’re both insane!”

“True, but not the point.” Before Goro could react, Akira flicks his forehead. “It’s pretty obvious that you haven’t been shown much kindness in your life.” His voice lowers into a soft whisper and laces his hand with Goro’s own. “Let us help you, Akechi. Just like you’re working so hard to help us.”

“But you’re paying me!” Goro shout-whispers back and lets his hand be gently caressed by the barista. “You don’t need to help me too. I’m just fine.”

“We want to get to know you better, Akechi. Please don’t shut us out.” Akira turns over his hand in both of his own and starts making meaningless drawings on Goro’s palm.

Wait. Not meaningless at all. Akira finishes writing the kanji for intelligent on his palm and then moves to clever, dedicated, witty and then finally to passionate before Goro closes his fingers and stopping Akira’s linework.

“You can’t mean these,” Goro chokes out. “I’m not any of these things. I’m… just a disappointment. I’m worthless. An unneeded, cursed child.”

“I don’t know who told you that, but they’re wrong.” Akira’s voice rings firm. He tightens his grip and locks eyes with Goro. “I like you, a lot, Akechi. So, please, _please_ don’t think you’re worthless, because you’re anything _but_. You’re so much _more_ than that.”

“But that’s all I’ve ever been. A disappointment to everyone.”

“Correction. That’s all you’ve ever been taught. You’re not a disappointment. You’re not worthless and, even if no one else does, _I_ want you in my life.” Akira goes back to gently stroking his hand. “I’ve never seen someone dance like you do. You’re so passionate when you dance, and you have so many different styles that you’re able to do. It’s so amazing. _You’re_ so amazing.”

“I’m not that great…” Doubt still lingers at the back of his brain, but Akira is still able to pull a small smile on his face. “As if being a dance instructor is anything to write home about. I haven’t even gone to college.”

“Who measures someone’s worth on whether or not they’ve been to college? Society? Fuck society. Every job is needed, including being a dance instructor.” Goro can’t help but laugh at that statement. “You being such a great and dedicated dance instructor has seriously saved our skins. We couldn’t ask for someone better.”

Goro closes his eyes and hums in contentment. Akira seriously had some nice massage skills. “Thanks, I…” He gulps and tightens his hold on Akira’s hand. “I really appreciate it, Akira.” Goro opens his eyes and gives the barista a small smile. “I really do.”

Akira gives him a small smile back. “And I meant every word of it.”

“Thank you…” Goro has to blink back tears. “ _Thank you_.” He couldn’t help it; his tears were flowing freely now.

“Akechi…” Akira gently whispers. “Please don’t cry.” But Goro doesn’t stop crying. He can’t; the tears just keep coming. After years of not letting them out, to telling himself that everything was fine, that his life was fine, the dam had finally overflowed. “Can I hug you?” Akira offers, not knowing what else to do in this situation.

Goro could only nod in response, his voice unable to function at the moment. As soon as he got the okay, Akira is dashing around the counter and pulling him into a tight hug. Goro rests his head on Akira’s right shoulder and just weeps. Years of untreated trauma came out all at once on Akira’s shoulder and he must look hideous, but the barista never loosened his grip. Not once. His fingers were rubbing small circles into Goro’s back and whispering reassuring words into his ear. For the first time in his life, Goro felt truly cared for from someone other than his own mother and it was in this small café and being tightly held by a man he barely knew for less than a week.

And it was perfect.

LeBlanc’s bell dings and Goro looks up to find a very confused Futaba standing in the doorway. “Ah… What did I miss?”

Goro pulls away from Akira’s, surprisingly, warm embrace and grabs a napkin to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. He definitely couldn’t hide from Futaba that he had been bawling his eyes out into the barista’s shoulder a few moments ago, but he _could_ make himself look halfway decent in front of her.

When Goro pulls away, Akira walks over to Futaba and slings his arm around her shoulders instead. “Not much. We talked about some things and then some other things.”

“Fine! Keep your secrets.” Futaba huffs. Akira gives her an apologetic smile and Futaba just shrugs in response. “Okay!” She gives Goro a big smile, trusting Akira’s judgement fully and moving on. She plops back down in her seat at the counter and places a sleek black laptop on the bar. “I grabbed you the laptop I mentioned. It only weighs a little over a pound and has some real impressive processing power for its size. It also has a graphics card that I made myself and it’s better than anything you’ll find on the market.”

The dancer still wasn’t fully comfortable with taking the offered laptop, but a quick glance towards Akira finds him pleading for Goro to take it. He sighs in defeat and slides the laptop towards himself. “Show me how to use it?”

Futaba lights up at his words and actually starts bouncing in her seat from excitement. “Yeah! Okay! So here you can…”

The next hour, Futaba proceeds to show Goro all the bells and whistles that his new laptop entailed. It was more information than his overemotional brain could handle at the moment, but he tried his best. Even though he tried, and he really did, to listen to Futaba patiently explain everything to him, his mind and gaze couldn’t stop focusing on Akira instead. Said barista was a silent companion during all this, but his presence still felt like a beacon.

Every time Akira shifted his gaze and their eyes met, the barista would give him a small smile that warmed Goro’s chest and crushed any doubts that had slowly crept its way back into his mind. The constant small reassurances and pure kindness in his eyes easily made Goro enter into a relaxed state once more. By the time Futaba was done teaching him, Goro was drifting to sleep in his chair. The whiplash of emotions he felt today, and then subsequence breakdown, had exhausted Goro both physically and mentally.

“Akechi,” Akira’s says from his right, breaking Goro from his drowsy stupor.

“Hmmm?” Goro hums in reply.

“Would you like to lay down upstairs and rest a little before you leave?” Akira asks and gently rests a hand on Goro’s shoulder. “It wouldn’t be good if you fell asleep on the train.”

“Sure,” Goro yawns and grabs his bag from the ground. At some point, Futaba had pushed it off her chair and onto the dirty flooring, but he couldn’t currently find it in himself to care. Even with exhaustion hampering his every movement, Goro still took great care to carefully put away both his old and new laptops into the bag after giving it a slight pat down to get rid of any stray dirt. When everything is thoroughly put away, Goro allows Akira to guide him up the stairs and into the promised bed.

“I have to get back downstairs to work until close, so if you need anything, text or call my cell.”

“Okay,” another yawn. “Thank you, Akira.”

“Don’t mention it, Akechi. Sweet dreams. I’ll come grab you before the last train if you’re not up by then.” Akira turns off the overhead lights and Goro hears the barista close the door behind him and his footsteps down the stairs.

Goro tries to fully relaxes into the bedsheets. He was very tired, yes, but his thoughts were in turmoil. This was Akira’s bed. He remembers the barista mentioning that he lived above LeBlanc at some point, so this had to be his room. Goro was in Akira’s bed. He was only now connecting the dots and he curses his past self for accepting the offer of a place to nap without any thought behind it. Now he was stuck.

“Fuck.” He turns on his back and stares up at the ceiling. “It’ll take a miracle if Akira still wants to date me after how I acted today.”

“Meow.” The sudden noise jolts Goro up into a sitting position. Was that Morgana? He hadn’t seen the feline all day. Was he here the whole time? “Meow.” This time Goro was able to pinpoint the call and the telltale sound of scratching claws on glass.

“Hold on.” Surprisingly, the scratching stops and Goro finagles his way to the window. He unlatches the glass and pulls it open. “Hey, Morgana.”

Said cat gives him a drawn-out meow in reply and jumps down onto the bed. He eyes the dance instructor in clear suspicion as Goro lays back down. Morgana stand stiff on the edge of the bed and gives another small meow.

“I was falling asleep downstairs, so Akira is letting me borrow his bed to take a nap.” Goro wasn’t sure why he was consoling a cat, but it felt right in the moment. Maybe he was just trying to convince himself more than Morgana that this situation was okay, and he was making a big deal out of nothing.

Whether or not Morgana truly understood what he said, the feline lets out a huff and gracefully walks across the bed. He settles next to Goro’s head and gives him a look asking if this way okay. The dancer didn’t mind the company and scratches behind Morgana’s ear.

The heavy conversation from before with Akira reenters his thoughts and Goro pauses in his scratching. “Morgana… For as long as I’ve known, I’ve been unwanted. I don’t know how to handle this.” The cat gives him a small meow and he smiles. “Does Akira really care about me? We haven’t even known each other for a week yet. How can he care so much about someone like me already?”

Goro feels the tears returning but he forces them back down. He refuses to cry in Akira’s bed today too. He’s already made a fool of himself downstairs; he can’t cry in front of Akira’s cat too. He takes a deep breath, holds it, and slowly lets it back out. Morgana gives him a concerned meow and noses his face.

“Sorry, I’m okay. Today has been far more emotional than what I’m used to.” Goro sighs and turns on his side to face the feline. “I should try to get some sleep.” Morgana gives him a rumbling meow in agreement and cuddles into the pillow. “Goodnight, Morgana.”

Before, Goro didn’t think he could fall asleep with all his thoughts and worries flying around his head, but the presence of the small cat worked wonders on his mentality. Within minutes, the dance instructor falls asleep to the sound of soft purrs in his ears and a warmth in his chest.

*~*

_“Goro!” The six-year-old perks up at the sound of his name being called and rushes back inside his house where his mother is waiting with a plate of sandwiches. “The next episode of that dance show you like is about to start.”_

_“Kenichi Ebina is preforming today, right?” Goro excitedly asks his mother and settles almost nose to screen as the opening sequence of the dancing television show starts to play._

_“Careful,” his mother giggles and directs him to the couch instead. Goro hops on and takes an offered sandwich. They both sit in content silence as Goro excitedly swings his legs against the couch until the anticipated dancer comes on screen._

_“There he is!” Goro immediately jumps off the couch and tries to copy the moves he saw from the dancer on the television. He attempts to lock his joints into place while moving and fails miserably. “What kind of dance is he doing, mom? He looks like a robot.”_

_“I believe he’s doing his own version of the robot,” she answers, but cocks her head in thought. “But I don’t think it’s quite that either. He seems to be mixing different styles of dance together and telling a story through his moves.” His mother pauses and smiles at him. “Sorry. Was that too much to understand?”_

_Goro shakes his head. “Nope! It’s like he’s trying to tell us something through his dance!” He turns back to the television in wonder. “That’s so cool. I want to be able to do that someday too!”_

_His mother giggles at him. “Suzuki-san next door does dance lessons in her free time. Would you like me to ask if she could teach you how to dance like Kenichi Ebina does?”_

_“Really?” Goro’s eyes twinkle in excitement, but, moments later, he suddenly turns nervous. He shifts side to side and looks at his mother anxiously. “Is it really okay? Won’t we be imposing on her?”_

_She gives him a sad smile and gets up from the couch to wrap him in a large hug. “Goro…” She wipes away tears he didn’t know he had and runs her fingers through his hair affectionately. “It’s never bad to ask for help.”_

_“But…” He sniffles and clings to her shirt. “I really want to learn how to dance, but we can’t afford it…”_

_“Suzuki-san loves to dance, I’m sure she’ll love to teach you too. She even offered to babysit you for free in the past.” Goro sniffles again and his mother wipes his eyes again._

_“Why is she so nice to us? Suzuki-san barely knows us,” Goro continues to protest. He’s been bullied by too many of his classmates and given too many glares when he’s out with his mother on errands to ever think people would be kind to him._

_“Suzuki-san doesn’t know us very well, yes, but she wants to. People don’t need to know everything about a person before they care about them or want to help.” Goro looks up at her and his mother gives him a reassuring smile. “She wants to get closer to us...” His mother wipes another tear away. “She wants to care about us,” she ruffles his hair, “and that’s all that matters, Goro.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Really, really.” She answers and stands them up, their hands grasped together. “Would you like to go ask her now?”_

_“Yeah!” Goro exclaims, the only remnants of his former sadness evident in his puffy, red eyes._

_Hand in hand, mother and son exit the house and make their way over to their neighbor’s house. They’re welcomed with open arms and warm chocolate chip cookies. For the years to come, Suzuki-san becomes a permanent fixture in both their lives until the inevitable happens, and Goro’s life was never the same ever again._

“A…ke…chi…” Slowly rising out of his dreamland, the voice seemed distant to the sleeping dance instructor. Goro grumbles and rolls over, clutching the fluffy blanket to his chest. He was way too warm and comfortable to wake up just yet. However, it seemed like the voice wasn’t quite done yet in trying to wake him up. “Akechi, time to get up. Dinner is ready.”

“Fuck… off…” The voice chuckles overhead and Goro feels a hand slowly run through his hair. “Don’t wanna get up yet.”

“I don’t mind if you want to sleep in my bed with me tonight, but I think you wouldn’t be comfortable doing that quite yet in our relationship, Akechi.” Goro freezes, realizing too late exactly where he was sleeping in hyper clarity. “You leave me with no choice, Akechi. Time to bring out the big guns.” A slight pause before,” three, two, one!”

Goro screeches as the blanket he was clutching was suddenly pulled from his grasp and leaving him half hanging off the bed. Goro’s eyes, now wide open, lock onto Akira’s mocking ones.

“Good morning! Have a nice nap?” Akira was holding the stolen blanket up like a prize, an overly pleased smile on his face.

Goro sends a death glare towards the barista and climbs, as dignified as he could, back upright on the bed. He doesn’t give Akira the answer he’s looking for until he deems himself presentable again, but the blush raging on his face was making it difficult. “It _was_ nice.” He pauses, letting his words fully sink in, but Akira’s expression doesn’t change. _Fuck you_. “Thank you for allowing me to borrow your bed.”

“No problem. If you ever want to sleep there again, let me know. I’ll warm it up for you ahead of time.” Akira sends a wink his way and Goro feels his face warm even further. The barista haphazardly throws the blanket back on the bed, ignoring the screeching yowl from Morgana as it lands on top of said feline, and grabs Goro’s hands to stand him up. “I have a fresh batch of curry waiting downstairs. Thought you might like to eat some dinner before you head out.”

“Oh, okay.” Goro reaches into his pocket to grab his wallet, but Akira waves him off.

“On me since I’m pushing the food onto you,” he reaches down and pulls the covers off of the still yowling Morgana. A grumpy feline greets them, his blue eyes searching the two boys for something, but either Akira doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about the agitated state of his pet, and picks Morgana up into his arms anyway. “Mona and I will be downstairs in the meantime, feel free to come join us when you’re ready. My bathroom is over there.” Akira nods towards a closed door near the front of the attic.

Taking the hint, Goro thanks the barista and heads for the bathroom. He hears the attic door close as Akira takes his leave back downstairs and opens the bathroom door instead. Turning the lights on, Goro immediately understands why Akira had pointed out the bathroom to him. It looked like his hair had a fight with a vacuum cleaner. The usually straight locks were sticking in every direction and had gained a certain puffiness that made him look like a circus clown.

_How many times am I going to embarrass myself in front of Akira today?_

With his ears tipped red in embarrassment, Goro gets to work calming down his crazy hair. Not a single brush or hair spray was in sight (because of course there wasn’t), forcing the dancer to use water and his fingers to work out the knots and frizz. It wouldn’t be perfect, not even close, but his hair was infinity better as Goro exits the bathroom a few minutes later and heads downstairs to meet back up with Akira.

The sounds of chill jazz music with a lone female singer enter his hearing as Goro makes his way down the stairs and into the café. “Lyn Inaizumi?” He asks Akira when he gets to the bottom of the stairs and sits back down on the same seat as before.

“Correct!” Akira was already ready with a fresh plate of curry and sets it down in front of the dance instructor and sliding him a cup of tea. “Are you a fan of hers?”

“I’ve been listening to her as of late.” Goro digs into his curry, unable to help himself with the alluring smell of the food wafting up to meet his nose. “Naoto recommended her to me since we tend to have the same tastes and they bought me her latest best of album. I was actually thinking of using her work for you and your friend’s dances.” The curry for his dinner was different than the one he had for lunch earlier today. While lunch’s curry was milder in the spice, it still had a little kick to it. (Yes, he couldn’t handle spice, fuck off.) Dinner’s curry seemed like the chicken had drowned in butter, and he was definitely also tasting tomato sauce in there. Odd, but it all came together perfectly and just as good as the other one he had tasted during lunch. As it was with the food from before, the curry was gone in a flash.

“I’d be down for that; I love her work. I actually just bought her best of album too for LeBlanc’s record player.” Akira looks away, but Goro catches the odd look on his face when he says that. Disappointment, maybe? “Which song of hers were you thinking for me to dance to?”

Goro decides to ignore Akira’s weird look for the time being and rubs his chin in thought. “I was thinking of either using Rivers in the Desert or making a remix of Wake Up, Get Up, Get Out There for you to dance to. They make the most sense for the style of dance I’ll be using in your choreography.”

“Oh?” Akira cocks an eyebrow at him, a half-crooked smirk on his face. The barista slowly, oh so slowly, leans across the bar and winks at him. The half smirk turns into a full one at the sight of Goro’s rising blush and the dance instructor couldn’t help but watch. Fully at Akira’s mercy. “And what style of dance would that be?”

“You could have just asked normally…” Goro mutters under his breath.

Akira seems to have caught the whispered words, as he gives the dance instructor another wink, and snatches up the empty plate. He stands back up and saunters over to the curry pot and scooping up some more food onto Goro’s plate. “But that wouldn’t be any fun. I need to flirt with the hot dance instructor at every opportunity I can.”

“Oh my god! Stop!” Goro groans and faceplants onto the counter. “You’re completely insufferable.”

“I know,” Akira chuckles. “You _can_ say I’m too hot to handle instead of insufferable, you know. We’re both thinking it. No need to lie when it’s just the two of us.”

A pause, then another drawn out groan from Goro. “Fuck _off_.”

“As long as you come with me.” Goro sneaks a peak up and finds Akira staring directly over him. “Hi honey.” The dance instructor pops up and tries to shove Akira away from him, but the space the counter provides between the two of them allows the barista to step away fast enough that Goro’s hands only hit air. “Whoa there! If you want me so badly you only need to ask!”

“I said, _fuck off_!”

“We’ve already gone through this, honey. As long as you come with me.” Akira mocks him again. Then, the little shit has the gall to pat his head like he was a disobedient pet. “And you’re not getting your food until you answer the question of what my dance style will be.” The barista holds up Goro’s plate over his own head and waits patiently for the dancer to answer the question.

“Waacking.” Akira cocks an eyebrow, indicating to further explain. Goro lets out a big sigh and sits back up straight in his seat before continuing. “Waacking is a street dance style that was created in America during the nineteen-seventies disco era. It mostly focuses on its rotational arm movements and posing. But its main characteristic is on its emphasis on the dancer’s expressiveness of those movements. Your cocky attitude works perfectly with it.” _And it was created by the LGBT community in America,_ Goro adds in his head. But Akira didn’t need to know that quite yet. If ever.

“Aw honey!” Akira places a hand on his chest. “You know me so well!” He finally hands Goro his curry as reward and smiles as the dancer immediately digs into the offered food.

When a good portion of his curry is devoured, Goro finds this is probably the best time to ask about his latest idea. “I have other plans as well, if you and your friends are interested.”

Akira places his arms on the counter and leans forward. “I’m listening.”

“Since I’m basing a lot of your dances off of street styles, and you all came in together as well, I was thinking of making a group choreographed dance with everyone for free as long as I can put it on my YouTube channel.” He pauses. “I will also be dancing in the choreographed group performance too, of course.”

“Of course!” Akira mimics. The barista’s face suddenly falls and then the counter suddenly seemed like the most interesting thing in the café. Akira traces the ingrained rings in the wood. “That sounds amazing, but are you sure you want us, a bunch of amateurs, on your YouTube channel?”

Goro shrugs. He had thought the same thing at first, so he couldn’t fault Akira in thinking it as well. The idea had formed during one of his late night, last minute planning on one of the groups choregraphed dance performance, when he had a moment of weakness. Goro didn’t want to lose the chance at the group’s friendship, so the thought of tempting them into preforming on his YouTube channel was too enticing not to ask. He had gone back and forth on whether he should until deciding that they could make the decision to do it or not themselves. It never hurt to try, right?

“I’ve never had such a large group on my channel before, so it’ll mix things up a bit. I can also use the information of you guys being amateurs to my advantage. The before and aftereffects of having my dancing lessons type of thing. Bring in some new potential customers.” Goro offers. He was grasping at straws here with his explanation as of why he wanted to this, but he hoped Akira wouldn’t notice or not care.

“I’d be down with that, but I’ll need to ask the others first before giving you a definitive answer.” Akira gives him a reassuring smile. “Sorry I can’t tell you a yes or a no yet,” he adds, sounding authentic in his apology. Akira really was disappointed that he couldn’t say yes to hanging out with him more. It was… kind of sweet.

“That’s fine,” Goro anxiously replies. It seems like he still wasn’t used to Akira’s authentic expressions quite yet.

“Want me to text the group chat and ask?” Before Goro could answer, Akira had already whipped out his phone and texts his group of friends about the new performance. Almost instantly, the barista’s phone is exploding with text messages in response. As Akira manages the situation, Goro takes the time to finish his second plate of curry.

“Where’s Morgana?” The dancer asks, checking around the café for the tuxedo cat.

“He left with Futaba to sleep over at her house while you were freshening up,” Akira explains without even looking up from his phone. “Said something about not wanting to be around us if we’re going to be all lovey-dovey.”

Goro raises an eyebrow and looks the barista over. “ _Morgana_ said that?”

Akira freezes in the middle of writing a text message and turns to him. “What? No! Futaba said that; she’s sick of watching us flirt with each other and took Morgana with her back to the Sakura household.”

“I see…” Goro looks him over. “Then why are you so nervous?” Morgana was way too intelligent to be just a normal cat. The suspicions were there, but what were the chances? “I’ve seen weirder things happen.” Teddie was an obvious example of that.

The barista gives a nervous chuckle and Goro narrows his eyes at the sound. “I’m sure you have, but, really, I just messed up my words a little. No big deal.” To give the impression that everything was, indeed, normal like he said, Akira goes back to his phone and sends out another string of text to his friends. “They want create a group chat with you to talk about the performance. You cool with me adding you?”

“Sure…” The obvious subject change was obvious, but Goro lets it go. There were plenty of things that he didn’t want Akira to know about yet, so Akira was bound to have some too. His phone pings and, as Goro is pulling it out of his pockets, it dings several more times before he could answer.

**Dancing Crew Group Chat**

**Ann** : hi akechi!

 **Yusuke** : Greetings.

 **Ryuji** : yo

 **Makoto** : Welcome.

 **Haru** : Thank you for joining us! :)

 **Futaba** : wat up nerd

 **Akechi** : Hello everyone.

 **Akira** : like i said b4. akechi wants 2 also teach us a group dance 4 his utube channel

 **Ann** : will we have enough time 2 do that b4 the gala?

 **Akechi** : It shouldn’t be a problem. All the dance styles I’ll be teaching you are similar to each other. I also won’t be recording the dance video until after the gala because of your time crunch, so no need to worry about that. No payment will be required either.

 **Futaba** : he tots talks lik an old busness man

 **Haru** : I think it’s cute

 **Makoto** : It’s very professional, as it should be. Akechi is our dance instructor after all.

 **Ann** : !!!

 **Ann** : akira u didn’t tell them???

 **Makoto** : Tell us what?

 **Ann** : :O

 **Akira** : akechi & I r going on a date 2gether tuesday

 **Yusuke** : I believe congratulations are in order

 **Haru** : Congrats!

 **Ryuji** : awesome news bro!

 **Makoto** : …

 **Akechi** : Back to the matter at hand. What other questions do you guys have about the group performance?

 **Ann** : thats all the questions i can think of atm

 **Ryuji** : same

 **Haru** : I can’t think of anything else either.

 **Futaba** : (･ω･)b

 **Akechi** : Oh. There it is.

 **Akechi** : ੧| ‾́ 〜 ‾́ |੭

 **Futaba** : （＊〇□〇）……！

 **Akechi** : Did I do that correctly?

 **Futaba** : ye!

 **Makoto** : Not you too…

 **Futaba** : weve cnvrted anthr 1 bois!

 **Futaba** : σ(≧ε≦ｏ)

 **Makoto** : Akechi, do you have the available time slots for all of us to practice together for the group performance?

 **Akechi** : I do, and it shouldn’t be an issue. I’ll send my available timetable through this group chat tomorrow morning.

 **Haru** : Sounds good! Thank you so much Akechi-san! I’m really excited to see what kind of choreography you’ll come up with for us!

 **Akechi** : I already have some ideas in mind.

 **Akechi** : Ann and Yusuke, I’ll see you tomorrow for your sessions.

 **Ann** : okie!

 **Yusuke** : I’m fully looking forward to learning the beautiful dancing artform you have chosen for me.

 **Makoto** : And with that, I believe we should call it a night here. Any more questions we have for you, Akechi, may we ask them over this group chat?

 **Akechi** : That’s fine.

 **Makoto** : And with that have a good night everyone.

 **Haru** : Good night!

 **Ryuji** : nite

After sending a goodnight text of his own, Goro stuffs his phone back in his pocket and ignores the few pings that sound off shortly afterwards.

“Sounds like everyone is on board,” Akira notes and puts his own cell phone away. Goro nods and finishes his tea, trying to look anywhere but the barista leaning forward in front of him on the counter. The dancer feels Akira’s eyes boring into him, but still refuses to look towards him. “Are you okay? Should I not have done that?”

Goro grips his teacup, his knuckles turning white. He was torn. Should he admit that he was terrified that the others would turn him down or not? The dream from before briefly flits across his mind and the dancer sighs. “It was okay. I was just…” His feels his cheeks heat up again.

Akira gently takes the teacup out his heads and Goro finally looks up to find the barista giving him a small smile. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

The dancer quickly shakes his head. “It’s just… hard to admit to being weak about something.”

He sees Akira wince at the statement and the barista grasps his right hand in comfort. “I know feeling well. For a long time, I’ve felt like I had to be the strongest person around everyone around me. That I had to be the person everyone could always rely on. It took me a while to realize this, but you don’t have to always be strong. Admitting that you’re weak is one of the hardest and strongest things you can do.”

 _Wow… I really didn’t expect that to come out of Akira’s mouth. I thought another sarcastic remark was coming._ Fully surprised by the serious answer, Goro widens his eyes and just stares at the barista. “Wow… I was prepared for an odd response, but not anything like _that_.” Goro remarks and squeezes Akira’s hand in his own.

“I’m full of surprises,” Akira softly replies, squeezing Goro’s hand back with a tender smile on his face. “Did you want to tell me what that look from before was about?”

Goro huffs out short laugh. “Yeah. I will.” He takes a deep breath, holds it, and slowly lets it out. “I was nervous that the others wouldn’t want to do the group performance. I wasn’t prepared yet for the rejection.” Goro pauses, mulling over his next words. “I wasn’t sure if they truly wanted to continue to spend time with me or if they were just desperate to find a dance instructor and were just being nice since I was their only option because of the time limit.”

The barista shakes his head and brings Goro’s hand up to kiss his hand. “If they didn’t like you, you would know. Trust me. We’re very upfront when it comes to people we don’t like and you’re not one of them. Not even close.”

He snorts. “They really are open books, aren’t they?”

Akira smiles, the atmosphere finally settling down into something more comfortable. “They are. But I love them anyway.”

“It’s refreshing.” Goro looks down at their intertwined fingers. “It’s nice being around people who don’t have ulterior motives.”

“Are you usually around people who do?” Akira raises an eyebrow.

“I used to be, yeah.” Goro trails off. He wasn’t ready, or mentally sound enough at the moment, to dive into his past with Akira right now. “I really don’t want to get into that right now, though. I just… can’t.”

“And that’s fine,” Akira says, and he _meant_ it. Goro was so glad that Akira and his friends had chosen Starlight Studio for their dance lessons. The fact that they could have easily went somewhere else for lessons and Goro never would have crossed paths with Akira was too depressing of a thought to entertain. Akira, in less than a week, had successfully weaved himself into Goro’s life and the dancer was all the happier for it. He was so glad he had allowed himself to open up again. It’s been too long.

“Thank you.” Goro was really touched. The consideration and kindness Akira has shown him was completely unwarranted and it might be the only reason they’ve gotten as close as they have in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t mention it.” Akira lets go of his hand and checks the time on the wall. “I don’t mean to kick you out, but the last train is coming up soon. Unless…” The barista’s usual smirk replaces the former soft look and Goro rolls his eyes. He knew what was coming next. “Unless you can’t handle being away from me and want to stay overnight. I wouldn’t mind.” A wink gets thrown his way, because of course, and Goro shakes his head.

“I have to get up early tomorrow for work and, while I would love some good coffee in the morning, the commute would be too long.” Akira must have already known the answer, because his expression doesn’t change at the news.

“Want me to walk you to the station?”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for the food, it was delicious. I’ll be sure to come back to LeBlanc soon.” Goro gets up from his seat and Akira hands him his backpack that he had kept safely behind the counter while Goro was sleeping.

They meet at the exit of the café and the dancer gets himself situated before leaving. “Um…” Goro looks up at Akira, waiting for him to continue. The barista looks like he desperately wants to do something, but Akira shifts from foot to foot instead. _Did Akira want to?_ When the barista’s eyes flick to Goro’s lips and then quickly back to his eyes, Goro decides to take the plunge himself if Akira was too nervous to do it himself.

A quick peck on the lips, Goro says a rushed goodbye, and books it out of the café before Akira could react to the kiss. Hopping onto the train at the station, Goro feels his entire face, ears, and neck burning from the intensity of his blush.

He had kissed Akira and it had tasted like curry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating, but, for obvious reasons, it took awhile to get it out. This chapter just kept writing itself and became WAY longer than I expected. I also just got Final Fantasy 7 Remake for my birthday and school is about to start, so my updates will be delayed from now on. Very sorry, but I will try my best to update consistently.


	7. May 7th

Yu was right, the afternoon sales at the local supermarket were too good to pass up today. Goro was glad that he had decided to stop by after today’s weekly group meeting at Starlight Studio. The meeting had quickly dissolved into friendly teasing, just like it always was, but this time around it was about himself. Rise and the others had somehow found out about his and Akira’s date on Tuesday and it was all the group could talk/gush about at this meeting. As soon as he was able to, he had taken the first opportunity to get out of there and with the first lame excuse that he had thought of; the supermarket afternoon sale.

Now that the rest of his afternoon was completely free for him to do what he wanted, it was time for Goro to kick back with a nice book and glass of red wine by his side when he finally made it back home after the market sale. Goro just had to find his ingredients for dinner and then he would be all set for the rest of the day.

He looked over the offered deals and quickly filled his basket. The half off chicken and bags of vegetables for one hundred yen a piece were already great deals, but the buy one get one free on spices was icing on the metaphorical cake. Speaking of cake… the desserts were calling his name and Goro had more than enough leftover grocery money to spurge on some good sweets. And it is here, in the desserts section of the supermarket, that Goro is caught.

“Akechi?”

The sudden polite, but sweet voice had Goro initially freezing in place. That is, until he notices a familiar poofy-haired girl come into his line of sight to his right side. Goro takes a deep breath to calm himself down and lets out a relived sigh. It wasn’t anybody he had to be afraid of.

Goro turns to the greet the newcomer and gives her his best polite smile. “Good afternoon, Haru.”

“Good afternoon, Akechi!” Said girl giggles and lightly taps his shoulder. “And enough of that fake smile, okay? We’re friends, right?”

Goro freezes again at her words. This seemingly unassuming girl had not once, but twice surprised him in less than a minute. They haven’t yet had a session together, so Goro didn’t know much about Haru yet other than what he garnered in the group lesson. However, it would seem, much like the others in Akira’s friend group, Haru must be more than she seemed.

Goro lets the smile go and relaxes his posture. “Sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Haru giggles again and gives him a warm smile. “That’s okay. I understand completely.”

_Did she? Did she understand the need to always seem okay? To be the textbook definition of the perfect son, or in her case, daughter?_

However, looking into Haru’s doe-like eyes, he found something familiar. Something that reminded him of himself. The pain of wanting the love of someone who would never see you as anything more than a tool. Being the tool that was only there to propel another to whatever they sought to accomplish no matter the tool’s feelings or desires. Goro shudders.

_Yes. Haru did truly understand._

With newfound respect for the girl, Goro turns his attention back to the waiting desserts in front of them. “What can I do for you today, Haru?”

Instead of answering him right away, Haru leans down and inspects the desserts as well. Not finding anything to her liking, she leans back up and gives him a pleading look. “I was hoping that the desserts would also be on sale, but it doesn’t seem the case. Would you like to go to a nearby café with me instead? My treat.”

“Um…” Goro looks from Haru’s hopeful look and then to the food already in his basket. He sighs, saying goodbye to his afternoon plans and making them for the night instead. “I’d love to, but I first will have to stop by my apartment to drop off my dinner.”

“Of course!” She claps her hands in joy and skips up behind him when Goro turns to head towards the checkout counter. “May I join you to your apartment or would you rather we meet up at the café?”

Goro really was off his game today if Haru had seen through his uneasiness to have another in his apartment. He was spared answering her question just yet though as it was his turn in line and Goro took this extra time to think about Haru’s question in full.

Did he want Haru to know where he lived? This would mean, in all probability, that everyone else in the friend group would also eventually know. From what Goro has observed so far from the odd group, they tended to share everything with each other. Boundaries didn’t seem to exist in their circle. As soon as Goro was able to afford his own place, he just didn’t feel comfortable letting other people know where he lived for safety reasons and for his own peace of mind. It had taken him over a year to let even Naoto, the person he felt closet to at the time, the knowledge of where he lived.

Instead of thinking in circles, Goro looks towards Haru instead. Said girl, instead of watching him for his answer and trying to figure him out, she was looking over what food he had placed on the counter. Haru was even humming under her breath a song that sounded very familiar, but not something he could place. She wasn’t at all pressuring him into an answer that she wanted. Haru, in her own unique way, was showing Goro that she was completely fine with whatever the dancer decided to do. There were no expectations Goro had to adhere to with her. She was fully content with the knowledge that they would eventually be able to hang out together and get to know each other and nothing else.

They exit the supermarket together; Goro looking at the pavement and Haru humming her song under her breath. Making up his mind, Goro starts making his way down the street with Haru quickly scurrying to follow him. “My place isn’t far; would you mind coming with? I shouldn’t take too long.”

Haru’s face instantly brightens at the invitation. “Of course!”

Getting to his apartment only took a minute or two and it was spent with them both in awkward silence. Neither Goro nor Haru knew exactly what to talk about with each other in the short amount of time. The dancer leads his guest to a moderately sized apartment building and heads directly for the elevator. The building itself wasn’t impressive, but the rooms were a good size for the price and location.

Goro and Haru make it to the third floor without incident and head for the room at the end of the hallway. Shifting his bag into his right hand, Goro digs out his keys and unlocks the door.

“Feel free to make yourself at home in the common room, I just need to put this stuff away in the fridge and change,” Goro informs the quiet girl and walks over to the kitchen. “Can I get you some tea or water while you wait?”

“Some water would be lovely,” Haru replies. She sits down on his plush couch and patiently watches him put away the food into the fridge.

After the ingredients are all put away in their rightful places, Goro grabs a simple glass cup from his cabinet and places it on the counter dividing the kitchen from the common room. He adds a few ice cubes from his icebox and pours filtered water from the fridge into the waiting glass. Haru continues to hum under her breath and surveying his apartment in wonder.

His home wasn’t very impressive. A two-room apartment with mix-matched furniture and bare walls. The only thing that gave it character was some misplaced papers on the coffee table and a single plant in the corner. It was very much a place that looked lived in, but it was a home that didn’t have much thought put into it.

Goro walks over to the girl and hands her the glass of water. “What’s the song you’re humming under your breath?”

“Oh! Sorry! Was my humming bothering you?” Haru quickly apologizes and takes the offered water.

“No, no.” Goro holds up his hands in reassurance. “I was just wondering what the song was since it seems familiar. It’s been bugging me since I can’t seem to put a finger on what it is.”

Haru giggles. “It would make sense that it’s seems familiar because it’s a remix of one of Lyn Inaizumi’s songs, Beneath the Mask.” She takes a sip of her drink and playfully watches his reaction to the information. “The Kaien remix to be exact.”

The dancer rubs his chin in thought. “I see, that’s why it seemed so familiar, and I was unable to place it.” Goro looks Haru over, the cogs in his brain churning, and when he gets a sudden idea. “I was struggling finding a song from Lyn Inaizumi for you like everyone else, so I was thinking of going with another artist for your dance but…” He pauses. “Could you send me a link to that remix? I might be able to use it for you. It has the right beats and tempo for the ballet-hybrid choregraph I’m making for you.”

“Really!” Haru’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “I haven’t been able to get this song out of my head, so maybe I’ll get sick of it after hearing it over and over for my dance.” She gives him a pleasant smile and pulls out her phone. “I’ll send it to you now while you go change.”

“Thank you, I appreciate the help.”

“No! Thank you!” Haru protests, looking up from her phone. “You’ve been a wonderful teacher for both myself and our friends so far! We really can’t thank you enough.”

Goro flushes at the compliment and inclusion into the friend group and scurries out of the room to his bedroom. The sweet giggling from the couch informed Goro that Haru had, indeed, seen his expression before he could turn fast enough. With the new information, Goro’s flushed face turns into a full-on blush by the time the door shuts behind him to his bedroom.

He quickly changes into more comfortable clothing and meets back up with Haru in his living room. “Ready to go?”

Haru looks up and nods. “Give me one more second…” Goro hears his phone ping in his back pocket and the fluffy girl gives him a triumphant smile. “Finally found it.” She stands up straight and dusts off imaginary dirt from her soft pink dress. “Let’s go.”

Goro holds open the door to his apartment for Haru to walk through and makes sure, twice, that the door is locked up tight before following his guest down the deserted hallway. Haru was already at the elevator and calling it up when Goro catches up to her. They sit in semi-comfortable silence as they wait for the doors to open. Moments later, the elevator arrives, and they head inside.

“Do you mind a bit of a walk?” Haru asks, peering up to him from the other side of the elevator.

“I don’t mind. It’ll help with shaving off some of the calories from the desserts later.” Goro feels, rather than sees the exasperation radiating from Haru and turns in full to look at her.

“But you’re so thin!” Haru huffs and puts her hands on her hips. “Gaining some weight could do you some good.”

Goro audibly snorts at the comment. “So, I’ve been told, not so politely, from Kanji before. It’s just naturally hard for me to gain weight with my job.”

“Oh! He’s a coworker, right?” A nod. “Good. I’m glad you’re so close with your coworkers. It’s not always the case, unfortunately.”

A dangerous glint enters Haru’s eyes and Goro unconsciously tries to back away from the smaller girl in the tiny elevator. He’s saved by whatever Haru is thinking about by the single ding overhead and the doors opening to the lobby of his apartment building. Goro, not so subtly, bolts from the enclosed space and heads out onto the streets of Shibuya, Haru not too far behind him.

“Lead the way,” Goro politely smiles at her when they exit the building. In response, Haru cocks an eyebrow at him and the dancer immediately drops the fake smile, recalling what the girl had requested before at the supermarket. Satisfied that Goro had remembered her words, Haru turns right and starts walking.

Haru, truly, was not someone to trifle with or take lightly. He had seen the ferocity before at the group session, but now that fire was able to blaze without any other distractions. Goro couldn’t help but be incredibly impressed by the polite and sweet debonair. Haru felt right at home with a teacup in one hand and a battle axe in the other.

“Have you been to Noir Café yet?” Haru asks, bringing Goro out of his thoughts and back to his companion.

“I’ve been meaning to go, but with how popular it is, it’s been hard to get a table. I also prefer quieter cafés since I tend to bring along a book or work that needs to be finished, so it’s never been a top priority to visit yet,” Goro replies.

Haru smiles at the answer. “Then I’m glad I’ll be with you on your first experience, Akechi.”

“Wait, what?” Goro stops in his tracks and stares at the girl as if she had grown a third head. “There’s no way we’ll get a table at this time of day without a reservation.”

At his dismay, Haru’s eyes turn mischievous and Goro couldn’t help feeling that the girl was hiding something from him. Nothing sinister, he was sure of that, but it did very much feel like he was the only one not privy to a very funny joke. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” she reassures him, but the dancer was anything but at this point.

“If you say so…” Both of them knew he wasn’t convinced by her words, but they continued down the street and to Noir Café anyway.

The walk over to the café _was_ very pleasant though. Today’s weather was the perfect spring afternoon. The sun was shining down with only minimal cloud coverage and a nice cool breeze made it so the two of them were never too hot while walking. Haru had gone back, at some point, to humming her song again and by the time they made it to their destination, Goro was able to join in with her. He wasn’t as ambitious in his humming as Haru was, but, nonetheless, the girl showed her delight to his contribution by the large smile gracing her lips when they walk through the entrance of the café.

Just as Goro had predicted, not a single table was free at Noir Café during peak business hours. He was fully ready to head out to another café in the area instead, but Haru surprises him by floating past the occupied tables and heading for the employees only door in the back. With no time to process what was happening, Goro unconsciously follows Haru through the doorway. They get a few side glances from the kitchen staff, but no one stops them as they head through another set of doors and into a private dining room.

Much like the rest of the café, the room was painted a royal purple with black furnishings and framing. The entire back wall was encased in crystal clear windows showing an impressive vegetable garden interwoven with miscellaneous flowers and vines. The entire aesthetic of the private room screamed prestigious, but oddly relaxing and comfortable at the same time. And, if Goro was being completely honest, the setup reminded him too much of his companion that it had him drawing his own conclusions. Conclusions that, in all honestly, he should have put together by now.

Haru Okumura, billionaire and CEO of the newly revamped Big Bang Burger franchise and, most importantly, owner of very café they were currently visiting, gently guides Goro to his seat and sits him down before finding her own.

“You- “Goro rushes out but stops as the sound of Haru’s overwhelming giggling fills his ears.

When Haru is finally able to reel in her laughter and stabilize her breathing, she wipes away a tear and finally replies to his question. “Yes, I am the owner of Noir Café.” At his expression, Haru nervously chews on her lower lip and looks way. “Oh… I’m really sorry from hiding that… I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Goro schools his expression and looks down at his lap. He clenches and unclenches his hands and does his usual breathing exercises. Deep breath in, hold it, and slowly let it out. Goro wasn’t upset by Haru hiding her linage from him, far from it actually. He was more upset by the concept of Haru Okumura than anything else. This, at first, unassuming girl is turning out to be someone that is more like himself than anyone he has ever met before.

It was a very unsettling thought…

When Haru had said that she understood being used by people for their own gain, she had meant it. It was just only coming out now just how much she _did_ mean it.

“Akechi?” Haru’s doe-like eyes peer at him from across the table and Goro shakes his head to bring himself back to the present.

“No need to apologize, Haru.” He resists the urge to give the girl another polite smile and instead twiddles his fingers under the table. “I’m not upset at all that you didn’t tell me.” He pauses. “It’s just a lot to take in, I guess.”

It was easy to tell that Goro wasn’t fully divulging everything with his response, but Haru, just like before, doesn’t pry into his personal affairs or expect anything more from him. Instead, she leans across the table and reaches her hands out for him to take. Unsure about the situation unfolding in front of him, Goro relents and places his hands in hers.

“If you ever need to talk about anything or need someone, I’m here for you. Whatever or whenever you need it… Okay?” Her voice was so tender and so full of emotion, that it had Goro rapidly blinking back tears.

The emotions that he had felt at Le Blanc with Akira just few days prior was still fresh in mind and the barista’s own words rushed back into his thoughts. With tears on the verge of falling and his throat clenched, Goro can only nod in response. Haru squeezes his hands tightly for a split second and lets him go. Too overwhelmed with emotion, Goro doesn’t know where to put his hands after Haru lets them go and leaves them open on the table. Seconds later, a menu is gently placed into his palms and Goro looks up to find Haru patiently waiting for him to calm down.

“When you’re ready, feel free to order whatever you want from the menu for today,” she gives him a mischievous smile. “It’s my treat, after all.”

The dancer huffs out a small laugh. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice cracking midway.

“No problem at all, Akechi.” Whether or not they were still talking about free desserts was up for debate, but, at this point, Goro would bet money on it being both.

The dancer was usually good about not enabling his sweet tooth, but today, with the knowledge that he didn’t need to pay for any of the sweets and his emotions being incredibly unstable at the moment, he orders a total of five different desserts to try. Haru had reassured him, as he was reading out his order, that he was more than welcome to come back and try the rest of the menu some other time. However, Goro had then turned around and assured her that he could, indeed, eat all five just fine. This had made the girl fondly shake her head at him and reply that Ann now had new competition for the biggest sweet tooth in the group.

It doesn’t take too long for their waitress to come back with a cart full of delicious looking desserts and drinks. She takes out a spinning tower and places it in the middle of their table. She sets the desserts on each of the offered tiers of the tower and, lastly, hands each of them their drinks.

“Enjoy your meal,” the waitress bows and exits back into the kitchen.

Like everything Goro had seen so far from the café, the tower was a beautiful crystal tree with branches twisting around each other and offering plateholders on each end. The desserts themselves were smaller proportions than most cafés offered, but they more than made up for their small sizes with expert plating and decorations. They were the kind of desserts that Goro had seen only inside display cases that expensive bakeries and establishments used to showoff what they could do. However, unlike those display case sweets, you were able to _eat_ these desserts.

Goro picks up the plate closest to him and marvels at the details and amount of work that was put into just one of the offered desserts. The one he had chosen was three small pink cakes. Each one had red and white polka dot ribbon fondant trimming at the bottom as well as a small fondant strawberry and two lighter pink cherry blossom flowers settled on top. It was a true work of art and Goro found himself reluctant to eat it.

Nonetheless, he picks up one of the three bite sized cakes and plops the whole thing in his mouth. The sweetness of the fondant is masterfully evened out by the moist vanilla cake and light strawberry cream center. All former reluctance disappears as Goro stuffs the other two cakes in his mouth and preens at the taste. He hears Haru giggling at his antics and quickly grabs his napkin to hide his overstuffed mouth.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Haru says, taking a bite out of her own dessert.

“These are incredible. I can’t wait to try to rest.” Goro replies, already feeling his blush creeping up his neck. In an attempt to distract himself, he starts looking over the rest of his desserts on the crystal tree.

“You should try this one next, it’s one of my favorites.” She points to another cake topped with slices of apple shaped into a rose and dusted with golden edible paint.

Goro takes her advice and takes the cake off the tree and looks it over before consuming it much like the smaller pink cakes. The two of them don’t speak again until Goro is on his last dessert, a pudding that had a mellow coffee and cream taste.

“Please let me know if I’m intruding,” Haru’s sweet voice echoes in the dinning room. Goro looks up from the pudding and gives the girl his full attention. “You have a date with Akira on Tuesday, correct?”

“I do, yes.” Goro answers, cocking an eyebrow. Where could this conversation be going exactly?

“Do you need any help getting ready for the date? Or want any advice about Akira? His like and dislikes, etc.” Before Goro could ask what exactly she meant by asking those questions, Haru continues on. “Ann is already helping Akira get ready and I was wondering if you needed some help too.”

Goro is a little taken aback from the friendly offer. He’s never had anyone willingly offer to help him without asking anything in return, much less offer to help him without being asked first. However, Goro is quickly coming to realize more and more, that Akira and his misfit group of friends will always be able to surprise him with their pure acts of kindness. There was little wonder as to why this particular group was able to wiggle their way so effortlessly into his life so quickly.

“Yeah…” His voice came out as barely a whisper and Goro clears his throat to try again. “Yeah. I think I would like that. Some help with the date would be nice.”

The girl’s eyes sparkle is pure joy, much like before when he trusted her to visit his apartment, and she claps her hands to solidify the arrangement. “Great! Do you have anything planned out?”

“I have the restaurant already picked out with reservations for six-thirty,” Goro answers, rubbing his chin in thought. “I’m more stumped on whether or not I should ask him to go somewhere else after dinner. Like a walk in the park or a movie?”

“I think doing something after dinner is a good idea and the walk seems lovely, but I think the weather won’t hold up. They’re predicting some heavy rain that night,” Haru informs him, also diving deep into thought herself.

They both go quiet, the dancer and heiress deep in their own thought process. Some time later, their drinks forgotten and cold on the table, Haru perks up in her seat. She leans forward, smiling wide at her companion across the table and relays her idea. Goro immediately agrees, it really was perfect and Goro marveled at how well Haru already knew him and Akira so well. The rest of the time spent at the café had Goro and Haru huddled together and planning the perfect date night on Tuesday.

It was finally Goro’s turn to impress Akira.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all honesty, I had most of this chapter written out over a week ago, but the last couple paragraphs were giving me so much trouble. I couldn't write anything that satisfied me. Hopefully, what I ended up with, wasn't too bad.  
> Anyway, I'm so happy I could write about my favorite girl in P5!   
> P.S. Anyone else think Akechi and Haru would have been really good friends if Akechi didn't kill her father? I think they would be and I just had to include that friendship in here.


	8. May 9th

Ann was known to very rarely arrive to anything on time and the fact that she had appeared in Le Blanc’s downstairs at four o’clock sharp on Tuesday was testament to how important she deemed the date with Akechi was going to be. She arrives like a whirlwind of barely contained excitement and enthusiasm with a makeup bag in one hand and a hanger of freshly dry-cleaned clothing in the other just as Akira comes downstairs to make some coffee.

“Perfect timing, Ann,” Akira whistles in amazement. He reaches for a jar of beans and sets it on the counter next to the grinder. “Would you like some coffee before we start?” His nerves were getting the better of him, so Akira had to do something before he broke down completely.

“No time!” Ann yells, grabbing his arm and dragging Akira from the back counter. “We have so much to get done before your date at six!”

“I just have to get dressed and fix my hair, right?” Akira protests. “What’s the hurry?”

She sends him an exasperated look. “That’s the problem! Your hair alone will take an hour to do!”

Ann snatches the jar of coffee beans right out of his hand and slams it back on the shelf. As Ann pushes him towards the stairs, Akira only has time to give a quick glance to Sojiro still behind the counter and give him a shrug as apology for all the noise. His adopted father was shaking his head at their antics, but the smile he hid behind his hands showed the good nature behind the action. Akira had informed his mentor days ago about his date with Akechi and it had gone over well. It had even come with the classic concerned dad speech about safe dating and sex.

“Come _on_ , Akira,” Ann finally whines, stomping on the lowest step to grab his attention back. Figuring he had resisted enough; Akira allows Ann to shove him up the stairs and back up into his flat. After Ann safely hangs the clothes up on the bathroom door and setting her makeup bag on the bathroom counter, Ann walks over to his desk and grabs his chair to set it up in front of his bathroom mirror. “Sit,” the girl commands, pointing to the newly positioned chair. Akira is quick to comply and settles into his seat.

“What’s on the table today, Ann-sensei?” Akira teases, trying to relieve some of his nerves.

“Hmmmm…” Ann answers in reply. She runs her hands through his hair and Akira can see his face twist in annoyance at the number of knots she pulls through. “God, Akira. When was the last time you brushed your hair?”

“I… don’t know?”

Ann gives him a Look and Akira yelps as she pulls on his hair in displeasure. “What do you mean you don’t brush your hair? Akira! Do you even own a hairbrush?!”

“No?” Before Ann could take out her anger on his hair once more, Akira hurries on to explain why. “N-no matter how many times I brush my hair, it always ends up in knots in minutes! And even if it is brushed it looks the same no matter what so… I don’t brush my hair? I just kinda, well, run my hand through it every morning and call it a day.”

“Like I said,” Ann deadpans whipping out a brush and comb from her bag in a flash. “An hour.”

The next hour has Akira gripping his desk chair in uncontrollable pain as Ann, not so gently, works through years of knots in his curly hair. She finishes it off with some specialty hair products and spends almost another fifteen minutes styling his hair to her liking. Akira will take to the grave the fact that he thought his hair didn’t look any different from before, but at least his hair did smell great and felt a lot softer to the touch.

“Finally!” Ann sighs. She puts her hair products back away into the bag and wipes away the sweat at her brow. “How does such little amount of hair cause so many knots? I’ll be sore for weeks!” Ann whines, massaging her wrists and stretching out her arms.

“The dreaded curse of having curly hair,” Akira laughs and gets up from his seat. He returns the chair back to its proper place and watches Ann unwind the plastic covering from his chosen clothing for the evening. The girl had come over a few nights prior to pick out the perfect outfit for him and demanded that he allow her to dry clean them. Akira thought the clothing had been fine, but Ann had said otherwise. She had forced upon him her mentality of not allowing anyone that got her help with fashion choice go anywhere without one hundred percent approval rating from her.

It was written somewhere in their vocal only contract after all.

The outfit Ann had chosen was casual, but not as casual as his usual hoodie or graphic t-shirt getup that Akira liked to wear. The outfit was a simple dark blue blazer with a grey undershirt and black skinny jeans that Akira liked to wear when he and his friends occasionally went to the club together. It hugged his legs and ass just right while still being stretchable enough to dance in. It didn’t take long for Ann and himself both agreeing that it was perfect for the occasion.

Akira heads back to the bathroom to change and checks himself out in the mirror when he was done; interested in how different he would look with Ann’s guidance. Even though he didn’t think the blonde girl’s help on his hair and outfit would change much about his appearance, he was proven wrong by what he saw staring back at him in the bathroom mirror. Akira could say he had the laidback college student look down to a science, but now his Joker swagger seemed to be emanating out from his usual persona from just a new hair style and outfit. That laidback attitude was still there, but a certain arrogance that he could only identify from when he was in the metaverse was seeping through seamlessly.

He exits the bathroom when he’s finally had enough admiring Ann’s work in the mirror and finds the girl waiting for him on his bed with her phone up and ready. Rapid fire flashes fill Akira’s vision, but he keeps still knowing that if Ann didn’t get a good picture, she would keep going until she did.

“Perfect!” Ann squeals after what seemed like forever of flashes.

“It really is. You’re amazing, Ann.”

She swats at him playfully. “Oh, shut up you,” she giggles and starts strolling through all the pictures to find the perfect ones. “I wouldn’t be much of a supermodel if I wasn’t able to do this much.”

Akira laughs with her and joins her on the bed. “What are the pictures for?”

“Mementos of your first date with Akechi,” Ann answers, never looking up from her phone. She says it with so much conviction as if it was a no brainer that Akira and Akechi would eventually get together.

“So, you’re implying that there’ll be a second?” Akira ask already knowing her answer.

“Of course, you are!” Ann finally looks up from her phone and rolls her eyes at him. “You two are already head over heels for each other. I’d be more surprised if you guys _didn’t_ start a relationship after tonight, let alone have another date together.”

He gives her a nervous laugh and starts twirling his hair from nerves. “Is it really that obvious?”

Ann swats his hand away. “Stop that, you’ll ruin all my hard work.” Akira pulls his hand away as requested, but not before giving her a pout that she promptly ignores. “And to answer your question, yes, it is that obvious. Anyone can guess that from the Phantom Thief group chat alone.”

“You… may be right about that.” He _had_ been talking about Akechi a little too much in the group chat but, to be fair, Akechi _was_ crucial to their success in the current palace. Akira couldn’t be blamed that he kept going off tangent from Phantom Thief work to his upcoming date with Akechi when each day drew closer and closer to said date.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. I actually think it’s really cute that you can’t stop talking about him.” Ann gives him a bright smile and wraps her left arm around him, squeezing Akira tight. “It’s been soooo long since you’ve had any interest in dating anyone,” she drawls, peering into his face. “Also, what do you say about not wearing your glasses tonight? You’re a lot more attractive without them.”

He takes off his glasses and turns it around in his hands. He had never needed them since his vision was fine, but it had started off as a way to hide himself in a crowd and to not stand out. Now that he didn’t need to hide, Akira had gotten so used to wearing glasses that he just continued wearing them.

“Just for tonight,” Akira decides.

“Just for tonight,” Ann echoes. She takes the glasses from his hands and sets them on his bedside table. “Now get going already or you’re going to be late!”

“Okay. Okay.” Akira gets up and grabs his stuff. He makes sure that his phone, keys, and wallet are secured in his pockets and leads Ann out of the loft.

“I expect an update later. Consider it my payment for all the help.”

Akira shakes his head. “I thought buying you all that food at the crepe shop was my payment.”

“No, that was payment for my date advice. This will be my payment for helping you look amazing for your date,” Ann explains.

“Ah, of course.”

Ann sticks her tongue out at him and starts her way down the stairs. They wave to Sojiro as they leave Le Blanc and head for the station together. As they walk down the street, Akira’s previous nerves raise their ugly heads once more. Ann seems to read his mood and stops him before they reach the station.

“Akira, hey, it’s gonna be okay. You’ll do just fine,” Ann reassures him in a soft tone. “There is nothing to worry about. It’s clear that Akechi likes you back just as much as you like him.”

“Yeah but… What if I mess it up? What if I say or do something stupid and Akechi will never want to speak to me again?” Akira knew he was letting his anxiety get the better of him, but the whirling, anxious thoughts since Akechi had asked him on the date were finally coming out in the open and he just couldn’t stop. “What if I pressured him into this? Or he’s just being nice because I’m his client?”

“Akira! Stop! Thinking like that doesn’t help anyone.” She grabs his hands in hers and squeezes them tight. “Does Akechi really seem like the person to be pressured into anything? Or ask someone out on a date just because of a work contract?”

“No…”

“And with that line of reasoning, would Akechi ever have asked you out on a date if he wasn’t interested in you already? You’ve already hung out with him on multiple occasions, so I doubt you’ll do anything that’ll scare him away so much to the point of never speaking to you again.” Ann unclasps their hands and instead brings him into a hug. “You’ll do great, Akira. I know you will.” She lets go and gives him a bright smile. “Just have fun and be yourself and everything will turn out great. I promise.”

“You promise?” Akira attempts a laugh, but it comes out strained.

“I promise.” Ann pauses. “And if I’m wrong, we can have an ice cream and Ghibli movie marathon on my couch.” They both share a laugh, remembering a similar night together after Ann had broken up with her first girlfriend. “Sound like a good plan?”

“Sounds like a _great_ plan.”

“Then go get him tiger!” Ann yells. She holds up both her hand and Akira follows through with the double high five.

“Thank you, Ann. I really needed that.”

“No problem, Akira. I’m always here if you _ever_ need me.” She places her hands on his shoulders and shakes him slightly to drive it home. “I mean it.”

They both say their goodbyes at the station entrance and Akira makes his way to the Shibuya line. Akechi had texted him last night to meet him at Station Square before they head off together to the restaurant. Akira was now running a little late because of his slight nervous breakdown back in Yongen-Jaya and quickly sends Akechi a text to let him know before heading on the train. Because of the time at night, Akira’s train car was completely packed, and he was smushed towards one of the exits of the car. He hoped that Ann’s hard work wouldn’t be wasted because of the packed compartment, but there was little he could do to help the situation.

Akira makes it to the station five minutes after six and he hopes that the restaurant that Akechi had picked out for dinner wasn’t too far of a walk or train ride over. He speeds up his pace after getting out of the bustling crowds and races outside.

“Akira?” Hearing his name behind him, Akira stops and looks to find Akechi casually leaning against the outside of the Yongen-Jaya exit. “When you said you were going to be late, I expected it to be longer than that.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Akira reaches up to twist his hair in nerves, completely forgetting about Ann’s wrath about not touching his hair. “I didn’t know how long I would be, so I figured I should text you just to be safe.”

“Since it’s the rush hour, that was a smart assessment,” Akechi laughs. “Let’s get going though. The reservation is for six-thirty and I don’t want our seats to be given away if we’re too late.”

Akira follows his date through the bustling activity around Station Square and down one of the many side streets leading off further into Shibuya. Finally having time to catch his breath, Akira skims over Akechi’s own outfit to make sure that the one Ann had chosen for him was correct for the occasion. It was safe to say that Akira was in the all clear since Akechi had chosen to wear a simple tan sweater vest, a white dress shirt underneath and a simple dark maroon tie accompanied by a pair of black skinny jeans that didn’t look too different from Akira’s own.

It really should be a crime how well Akechi’s clothing seemed to enhance his every curve and undefined muscle. Especially Akechi’s ass. It was too perfect that Akira had to stop himself more than once from just ogling his backside openly in public. Akira was short-circuiting about a lot of things from Akechi’s appearance; however, his butt was unquestionably his best physical feature and Akechi definitely knew it with how he seemed to dress on a day to day basis.

“The restaurant is about a fifteen to twenty-minute walk from the station,” Akechi informs him as Akira picks up his pace to walk side by side.

“I see…” Akira pauses and gives Akechi a side glance. “And are you going to tell me where we’re going exactly?”

“Not yet.” Akechi laughs and pulls out his phone to check to make sure that they’re going the right way. “It’s a surprise, remember?”

“Yeah but- “

“But nothing. _I’m_ the one fully in charge tonight,” Akechi declares, rumbling his voice on purpose to get a rise out of the barista.

Akira gulps and feels a brush form on his face. _Why is the thought of having Akechi in charge way too sexy of a thought?_

A brief image of Akechi sitting on his face had Akira audibly choking at his own perverse thought process and stumbling over his own feet. Akechi notices the sound and subsequent stumble and doesn’t even try to hide his pleased expression when the barista fully understands what he was trying to put down in his choice of wording.

“Then I guess I’m fully at your mercy,” Akira smirks. _Two could play at this game_. “I’m looking forward to whatever you have in store for me tonight,” Akira continues, practically purring his words.

He sees Akechi’s body shiver at the returned flirting and smirks while the dancer just shoots him a glare. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re the one who started it babe,” Akira laughs.

“Yeah, well, now I’m ending it.”

“Of course! You’re in charge of me tonight, after all. I’m completely at your mercy,” he taunts back. He really should stop, for the sake of Akechi’s sanity, but Akira couldn’t help it. If there was a chance to turn Akechi into a human tomato, he was going to take it. It was too cute not to.

“ _Akira_!” Akechi hisses.

The barista puts his hands up. “Sorry, sorry. Okay, I’ll actually stop for real this time.” Akechi gives him a playful shove and they both let out a laugh. “But you really should stop making this so easy for me. I can’t help it.”

Akechi rolls his eyes. “Sure, you can’t.” The sarcasm was practically dripping from his voice.

“But I really can’t help it, Akechi!” Akira exclaims. “It’s becoming a real problem not being able to stop myself from flirting with you at every opportunity I can.”

“Sounds more like a you problem,” Akechi scoffs and picks up his pace.

“ _Akechi_! I think we share fifty-fifty blame on this one.” Akira whines, trying to keep up with the dancer’s new speed.

“Whatever.”

Akira sticks his tongue out in response and Akechi just rolls his eyes right back. It was comfortable, like this, and incredibly fun to be around Akechi. Challenging each other and shooting off playful quips until someone relented. Akira was obviously winning these small rounds, but Akechi was hitting back harder and harder each time they did battle. Akira could see that Akechi had more to say during these, but something kept stopping him from continuing. Sometimes Akechi just got too flustered to continue, but others, it was like watching an unseen hand grip him and make Akechi stop.

Akira stops this thought process in its tracks. Today was supposed to be fun and getting to know Akechi better. He really can’t pry into someone’s potential trauma like that on their first date. Especially because he himself was hiding so much from Akechi already with the Phantom Thief stuff. He couldn’t expect Akechi to open up about his secrets when Akira wasn’t ready to divulge his own. It wouldn’t be fair.

So, instead, the rest of their walk together consisted of the both of them catching up since their time spent in Le Blanc. Topics ranging from how work was going, how Akira’s morning classes were killing his night owl schedule, and, most importantly, their first dance session together tomorrow afternoon.

“Eat a light lunch, comfortable workout clothes, and lots of water. Right?”

“Correct, but I would also recommend wearing a tank top instead of a tee shirt,” Akechi adds. “I’ll be teaching you how to waack, as I’ve said before, and it focuses on arm movements. It’ll be easier for me to watch every minute detail you make if you wear one and it’ll also help with the chafing.”

“If you wanted an excuse for me to show more skin, you should have just said so. I’d gladly comply in a heartbeat.”

“As if I have to ask since you’d take any excuse to show more skin regardless of me asking for it,” Akechi jibes back, his face was only slightly flushed this time. Akira had to give him props for keeping his composure and managing to tease right back without missing a beat.

Akira holds up hands up in defeat. “Okay, you caught me. You’re completely right, I’d take any chance I can not to wear clothing.” He pauses. “Especially pants, they’re evil incarnate.”

“Your hatred of pants just might stem from them cutting off your circulation,” Akechi observes, his eyes flicking briefly downward to Akira’s skinny jeans.

“Probably,” Akira shrugs. “But I look too good in these jeans not to wear them.”

“That’s an… accurate statement.”

Akira mock gasps. “Did _the_ Goro Akechi, of all things, give me a _compliment_?”

“Maybe,” Akechi laughs. “But are you sure you didn’t hear it wrong? That guy is kind of a jerk.”

“Hey! That’s my date you’re talking about! I won’t stand for you insulting him like that!”

They’re still both laughing when they finally make it to their destination.

“Sushi? Are you sure? This place looks expensive and costs way more than some steak at the family diner.” Akira looks over the restaurant Akechi stops at. The outside was a simple and traditional sushi house. The building was older, but well taken care of.

Or, in other words, expensive.

Akechi turns away, a blush creeping up his neck. “Sushi is one of my favorite foods and this place has the best in Tokyo. I picked the place, so don’t worry about the price and enjoy yourself.”

Akira’s expression softens and he gives Akechi a small smile. “Okay, I will and don’t worry about me enjoying myself. I’m always having a good time when I’m with you.”

“Stop being such a sap,” Akechi retorts. His blush traveling up his neck and burning his face bright red.

“But I was being a hundred percent serious,” Akira protests

“Shut up,” Akechi hisses back as he opens the restaurant doors for them.

“I would, but we both know you like my voice too much to do that.” Akira enters the restaurant first with Akechi following close behind, his face rivaling a ripe tomato.

“Welcome back, Akechi-sama,” the host greets them and gives a deep bow. “Please follow me to your private room for two.”

“Welcome back?” Akira whispers as they’re led past the sushi bar and towards a back hallway. “Private room?”

“I’m a regular here, so when I reserved two seats instead of one, they offered me a private room tonight for my continued contribution,” Akechi whispers back.

“Nice.”

The host leads them up a staircase at the end of the hallway and opens one of two doors on the second level. The room was a simple traditional Japanese paneled space occupied by a tea table with two cushions on opposite ends. Twin sliding doors on the opposite end were open to a simple balcony and comfortable looking chairs. The cool evening breeze wafted into the room and it gave the entire set up the perfect calming atmosphere for dinner.

“Feel free to make yourselves comfortable. Place your order through the available intercom system,” he points to a speaker next to the light switch,” when you are ready. Your meal will be sent up via the dumbwaiter,” he points to a small door on the right side of the room. “And we hope you enjoy your meal with us today,” the host says, bowing before sliding the door shut behind him.

“Wow. So fancy,” Akira laughs and sits down on one of the cushions.

“I’ve never been up here, so this is all new to me,” Akechi says, looking around the room. “Tea?”

“Yes, please.”

Akechi walks over to the intercom and places in an order for a pot of oolong tea. “They said it should be up soon, but to let is seep for a couple minutes first.” Right on cue, a small ding rings from the dumbwaiter and Akechi grabs the small tray with a traditional clay teapot and two yunomi cups.

“I’m really enjoying this setup. Very private,” Akira points out as Akechi sets the tea on the table and takes his own seat.

“I do as well, I’m really enjoying the calming atmosphere they have up here. I’m not sure I can go back to eating at the bar after this.”

“Yeah! You’re really spoiling us here, Akechi. How are you ever going to top this on our next date.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Akira freezes.

“Oh? Already expecting another date, are we?” Akechi teases him. Akira had finally slipped up and the dancer was taking full advantage to make fun of him for it.

“What? I haven’t already won you over with my amazing charm and grace?” He was stumbling over his words, but Akira still dredged onward. He couldn’t give Akechi the satisfaction of catching him off guard now. No way.

“Some people could certainly call yourself charming, but I have yet to see anything remotely resembling grace,” Akechi continues to taunt. He had found an opportunity to sink his teeth into and Akechi wasn’t willing to give in until Akira admitted defeat this time around on their verbal battlefield.

“Would you happen to be one of those people who would call me charming?” Akira really was reaching for straws here.

“Maybe on a good day. Most of the time you’re just insufferable.”

“Oh! You wound me so!” Akechi wasn’t giving him anything to grab onto; might as well give him this win and regroup for the next attack. Akira could always strike him back when he least expected it.

“Stop being so damn dramatic. It’s not helping your case with that charm and grace you were looking for,” Akechi retorts, rolling his eyes.

Akira, in all his charm and grace, clutches at his heart and flops on the group. “I’m dead! You’ve actually killed me, Akechi! How will you ever explain this to the restaurant staff? Having dinner with a fresh corpse!”

“Don’t need to. I have the perfect solution to the problem.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” Akira perks up, he was curious as to what Akechi was up to.

Across the table, Akechi’s expression had suddenly turned nervous and a blush was creeping across his face. Without another word, Akechi gets up from his seat and crawls over to Akira’s sprawled form on the floor. Before Akira could react, Akechi is already reaching down and placing a soft kiss on his lips. It only lasts for a second as Akechi quickly dashes back to his seat.

 _Oh, he’s good._ Was all Akira could think while his brain tried to keep up with what happened.

“There you go. A kiss of life,” Akechi mutters after sitting down.

Akira feels his face immediately heat up and he bolts back up. “Yeah… I really do feel reinvigorated after that.” He glances over to Akechi and focuses on his lips. “But maybe we should try that again. Just to be sure, you know?”

“Maybe later,” Akechi quickly replies. “We really should order our sushi before the restaurant gets mad.”

“Okay, yeah. Sure.” Akechi could have said anything in that moment and Akira would have agreed in a heartbeat. His brain had turned to mush the moment Akechi’s lips had touched his and thinking beyond ‘oh my god, he kissed me,’ proved to be a difficult task.

It doesn’t take long for them to decide what to order and relay it back to the kitchen staff. As soon as that task was over, Akira finds himself and Akechi in an awkward silence. The electrifying atmosphere from before was gone and was replaced by a tone that made it hard to start a conversation.

The kiss was great, don’t get him wrong Akira very much wanted to continue, but the sudden shift in conversation had left them with the massive elephant in the room in how to respond to it. Akechi had kissed him after visiting Le Blanc and, again, now, but neither one of them had addressed their feelings on the matter to any extent yet. Now it was much too late to touch upon it without it getting even more awkward than it was now.

“So, um- “, Akira is immediately cut off by a bright flash outside and an accompanying crack of thunder. The sounds of heavy rain resonate through the room and Akira rushes over to the balcony to slide the doors shut before the rain could get in. He struggles to get the left door to close for a minute or two before feeling Akechi come up behind him and help shift the door enough to close it.

“Get the latch,” Akechi instructs as he holds the doors firmly in place for Akira to lock.

“Got it,” Akira confirms after the latch is in place and steps aside. He heads back to his seat and rests his head on the table. “Shoot. I completely forgot about checking the forecast. I didn’t bring an umbrella,” he sighs.

“Why didn’t you check the forecast for today?” Akechi laughs and rejoins him at the table.

“I… got too busy.” Akira couldn’t admit that he was too nervous about the date to remember to check the forecast. Akechi would never let him live it down.

“I see. Then it’s a good thing I did remember.” Akechi’s eyes flash and Akira braces himself for whatever mischievousness Akechi had up his sleeve. “I’d be more than happy to walk you home if you go somewhere with me after dinner.”

Akira raises an eyebrow in question and relaxes a hair. Not quite what he was expecting Akechi to say, but he could roll with it. The night was still young and, as long as they didn’t say out any later than midnight, Akira would be more than happy to hang out with Akechi for longer than he had expected to.

“Sure, why not?” Akira shrugs, allowing his signature smirk to appear. “You wouldn’t happen to be making this another surprise for me tonight, are you? I’m not sure how many more surprises my fragile heart can take at this point!”

Akechi barks out a laugh. “Don’t worry, just this one and maybe one more if you’re a good boy.”

“Aren’t I always a good boy?” Akira purrs, batting his eyelashes.

“I have yet to see anything resembling you being good at anything,” Akechi purrs right back.

“I thought you loved my coffee!”

“It was mediocre at best.”

Akira gives him a pout but pushes on. “And the curry?”

“Adequate.”

“Flirting prowess?”

“Insufferable.”

Akira slams his head against the table and groans. “Is there anything you think I’m good at?”

“Nope.” Akechi’s voice was just oozing delight at Akira’s expense. “But don’t worry. I have a thing for bad boys.”

Unable and unwilling to stop himself, Akira starts giggling into the tea table and Akechi doesn’t take too long to join him. And, just like that, the two were back into their comfortable flow of back and forth flirting and taunts.

As soon they were able to catch their breath, Akechi finally pours each of them a cup of tea. Akechi takes a sip of his drink and scrunches up his nose. “We let it steep for the too long.”

Akira takes a small sip of his own tea and shrugs. “Yeah, but it’s just a little more bitter than usual. Not too bad.”

Akechi slides the tea pot across the table. “Then you can have this one. I’m going up to order another one.”

“Sure.” Akira didn’t mind the slightly more bitter taste. He _has_ , of course, had more bitter coffee than this before. He takes another sip, frowns, and gathers up the entire tea set and places it back in the dumbwaiter. “Let’s just get a new pot anyway.”

Not saying a word, Akechi gives him a knowing look and puts in the new tea order while the dumbwaiter heads back downstairs to the kitchen. Akechi has to reassure the host multiple times through the intercom that it was okay that they didn’t steep the tea downstairs and it was his fault, not theirs, that it had turned out too bitter. It is only when Akira also steps in a few moments later and says the same thing does the host finally drop it and tell them that their sushi should be up shortly.

“How do you act when you come here by yourself, Akechi?” Akira presses. “The poor guy sounded like you were going to murder him over some bitter tea.”

Akechi flushes and shoots him a glare as they sit back down. “I act like a model customer every time I come here; I’ll have you know. He was most likely acting like that because I told them it was a date when I made the reservation. They then decided that they wanted to do their best to make it the best dinner possible because of my continued patronage.”

“That’s actually kind of sweet of them. It reminds me of the regulars who come to Le Blanc and we give them curry on the house sometimes.” Akira turns from Akechi to look around the private room. “I can see why you like this place so much. It’s simple, but relaxing.”

Akechi is saved from the conversation and his apparent obsession with sushi as the dumbwaiter dings. He rushes over to the elevator and pulls out the plate of waiting sushi. The dumbwaiter starts up again and another plate appears. Akira also gets up to help and the two work together to set up the table.

They eat in relative silence and making passing remarks about the sushi. Akira, at one point, bringing up that Morgana was a big fan of fatty tuna and would raise a fuss if he didn’t bring any back. Akechi agreed to keep their dinner destination a secret and they share a laugh together.

“It seems like Morgana has you wrapped around his paw,” Akechi remarks, bringing a piece of said fatty tuna to his mouth and chuckling.

Akira laughs back. “And what makes you say that?”

“The strict sleeping schedule, the constant demands of expensive sushi,” Akechi lists off, bringing up a finger for each one, “and suckering you into bringing him everywhere. Three strikes and you’re a victim to your cat’s demands.”

“Oh my god,” Akira dramatically gasps. “You’re right. My cat has complete control over me. Akechi! You have to help me!”

Akechi rolls his eyes and takes a sip of tea. “I think you’ll be fine.”

Akira picks up a piece of sushi and stuffs it in his mouth, humming at the taste of the fresh fish. “What about you? Have any pets?” He asks after swallowing his food.

“Unfortunately, my apartment complex doesn’t allow pets. However, if they did, I would probably own a dog.”

“A dog person, huh? I should have known,” Akira laughs. “Did you have a breed in mind or were you going to adopt?”

“I was thinking of getting a German Shepherd or a Shiba Inu,” Akechi answers, rubbing his chin.

“I recommend getting the Shiba Inu since German Shepherds tend to not get along well with smaller animals like cats.” Akira freezes, he really couldn’t keep his mouth shut today and was giving Akechi way too much ammunition. It was their first date together! It seemed like his nerves were affecting him a lot more than he thought they were…

“Oh? Already thinking ahead on our pets getting along together?” Akechi teases, bringing Akira out of his racing thoughts. “I don’t remember committing to a relationship quite yet, Akira Kurusu.”

“E-er, right… Sorry, ignore me.” Akira turns sheepish and twists a lock of hair. He could feel his face burning and the look Akechi was giving him wasn’t helping.

However, it seemed Akechi would relent on this one. “But I wouldn’t worry about that too much. Your prospects of getting into one at the end of the date look quite good.” It takes Akechi a moment to realize what he had just said. With a blush that rivals Akira’s own, the dancer starts to stuff his face full of sushi to avoid further communication.

Akira feels his heart start to race at the words and a giddy smile overtakes his face. By some sort of miracle, he hasn’t fucked this up yet. With renewed confidence, Akira spreads a heaping amount of wasabi on a piece of yellowtail sushi and plops it in his mouth. The spicy heat does the trick to ground Akira back to Earth and he feels tears prick his eyes from the sensation.

Akechi was still stuffing his face when Akira turns back to him and continues on with the conversation as if nothing had transpired.

“Which type of sushi is your favorite?”

_Perfect. Ease back in with a topic that both changes the subject and safe to ask. Good thinking Akira._

The dancer stiffens at his voice, but slowly regains his composure. While he waited for Akechi to find his voice again, Akira picks up a salmon roe sushi and eyes it. He wasn’t too picky with his food, but salmon roe always made him hesitate. Akira was very much a texture eater, so the random popping of the salmon roe while eating made his stomach churn every time. However, he didn’t want good food to go to waste and Akira eats it anyway. As expected, the popping sensation threw him off and his stomach churned in warning.

His anguish must have shown on his face because he hears a small chuckle from Akechi after painfully swallowing the piece of sushi. “Not a fan?”

“The taste is fine,” Akira clarifies. “I just really hate it when I expect a certain texture from foods and it’s completely different. It feels like my own food is betraying me!”

“Shouldn’t you expect the salmon roe to be a different texture by now?”

That was the same question Akira had asked himself multiple time by now, but it still got him every time. “You would think, but my mind refuses to adhere to common sense.”

“Akira Kurusu and common sense?” A mocking gasp. “Never.”

“Shut up,” Akira laughs. “I totally have common sense… sometimes.”

Akechi rolls his eyes. “Sure, you do. Whatever you say.”

The rest of dinner is much of the same between the two of them with their continued back and forth flirting and shared laughs. As a whole, the dinner, Akira would say, was a great success. It had gone almost exactly how Ann had told him it with how it was evident that they both were acting as their true selves and putting themselves on the table for the other to see in clear view. Akechi was putting in the same amount of effort Akira was in whether or not this potential relationship would work between them.

It was incredibly corny and straight out of a romance manga, but Akira thinks that they fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces. They were so different yet so alike that it was scary how well they played off of each other. Akira had known for a while that his infatuation with the dancer had grown into something more, the butterflies in his stomach and his heartbeat picking up whenever he thought about Akechi was more than enough proof of that, and now he just had to go for it.

If Akechi didn’t ask him to be his boyfriend at the end of the night, Akira would do it for him. He wanted their feelings to be put out on the table sooner rather than later. He needed to know if Akechi felt the same way that he himself thought of the other man. The continued what ifs of ‘will they or won’t they get together’ was something that neither of them had time to take part in. The twisting in his chest wouldn’t relent until he pushed himself forward to ask Akechi soon that very important question.

And, hopefully, the answer would be a positive one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned for the date to be fit into one chapter, but once I hit 11,000 words and still going, I decided to split it up into two. So expect the next chapter to come out a lot sooner than this one since a good chunk of it is already written!


	9. May 9th (Part 2)

“Would you like anything else? Otherwise I’m thinking of heading downstairs to pay the bill,” Akechi asks, getting up from his seat.

After receiving a negative, Akira is left in their private room with his stomach full and fully content. He pours himself some after meal green tea and takes a small sip while he waits for Akechi to finishing paying downstairs. He had muted his phone during the train ride over to Shibuya in courtesy of their date, so Akira takes this time to see if he had any notifications. He’ll put it away as soon as Akechi gets back, but for now, he was free to look at his phone. As he thought, the Phantom Thief group chat had exploded in his absence.

Phantom Thief Group Chat

 **Skull** : yo! joker! hows the date goin?

 **Skull** : ???

 **Skull** : hello?

 **Skull** : helloooooooooooo

 **Skull** : earth 2 joker!

 **Panther** : oh my god

 **Panther** : stop trying 2 get his attension!

 **Panther** : hes on a date, of course hes not answering his phone!

 **Skull** : what?

 **Skull** : and that suddenly means he just goes all dark on us?

 **Panther** : yeah!

 **Panther** : it does!

 **Oracle** : i tracked thm 2 a sushi plce in shibuya

 **Oracle** : real fncy 1 2

 **Noir** : Aw! That’s so sweet! I’m glad I helped Akechi get ready. He had a lot of nice clothes, but nothing that was date worthy. I even had to drag him shopping before the date.

 **Panther** : u helped akechi get ready noir?

 **Noir** : Yup! And you helped Joker, right?

 **Panther** : sure did!

 **Panther** : did you get a picture of akechi? I’ve got some of joker!

 **Noir** : I do actually!

 **Panther** : image sent

 **Noir** : image sent

 **Panther** : gr8 work there, noir!

 **Noir** : You too, Panther! They’re going to look so cute together.

 **Oracle** : and i hve gr8 blckmail material nw

 **Oracle** : ( •̀ω•́ )σ

 **Joker** : thank u 4 ur contribution, noir. i gr8ly approve of ur choice in clothing

 **Oracle** : he speaks!

 **Panther** : joker! get off ur phone! thats so rude!

 **Joker** : hes downstairs paying 4 our food. i’ll put it away when he gets back

 **Panther** : u better!

 **Panther** : …

 **Panther** : so hows the hair?

 **Joker** : 2 far gone. train ride was brutal

 **Panther** : rip all my hard work

 **Joker** : a true tragedy

 **Skull** : but u still havent told us how its goin!

 **Joker** : i’m going 2 ask akechi 2 b my boyfriend

 **Panther** : !!!!!

 **Panther** : i’m so excited and happy 4 u guys!!1! <3

 **Skull** : we willl always be here 4 ya man

 **Joker** : thx guys

“Are you ready to go, Akira?” The sound of Akechi’s voice has the barista quickly stuffing his phone back into his pocket and standing up. He’s sure that the others are still messaging the chat with more questions, but he’ll have to respond to them later. Akira’s attention is for Akechi alone tonight and he was eager to learn where the brunette was taking him after the sushi restaurant.

“Sure am.”

Akechi gives him a small smile and they head back downstairs together, Akechi leading the way. The host rushes over to open the front door for them and the two give their thanks as they step under the awning outside. The torrent of rain has yet to let up and Akira steps over to Akechi as he pulls open his umbrella for them to walk under.

“We have to take a train ride over to our next destination, but it shouldn’t take too long to get there,” Akechi relays.

“That’s fine.” They huddle under the single black umbrella and fully embrace the down pour of rain. The air was a little cool, but still warm enough that didn’t cause discomfort. As they walked back to the station, avoiding puddles along the way, Akira tried to keep his face straight. This close to Akechi, Akira could feel the warmth emanating from his form.

It was pure intoxication.

The roaring of rain and the rumbling cracks of thunder were the only friends that kept his mind in check during their walk together under the umbrella. However, just as the storm was his friends, they were also the same enemies that had put him in this situation in the first place. During all this, Akechi (the bastard that he is) either didn’t notice or didn’t care about their sudden close proximity together as he showed no signs of similar distress on his face as Akira probably was.

Akira, somehow, was able to keep himself in check long enough and they make it to Shibuya Station with no embarrassing instances. He doesn’t bother to check which line they get on and is fully content to just let Akechi guide him the rest of the way.

Just like the dancer had promised, it only takes a few minutes, at most, before they exit the train and are back onto the streets. Akechi brings his umbrella back out and Akira moves to huddle under it. Akira has had enough time to calm down and mentally prepare himself for the forced close proximity to Akechi and Akira _definitely_ fairs a lot better on this walk than the last. Unfortunately, the trusty umbrella didn’t have much time to shine this time around as the district they soon entered into provided an overhang between buildings that blocked out the torrential rain.

Akira has never, believe it or not, been to this part of Tokyo before even after four years or so of living here. As a simple country boy, the sheer volume of places and areas just one city provided astounded him to this day. There was always someplace new that he’s never explored before even in places that he’s frequented. Not to mention that the city was constantly changing and morphing into something new every day. It was equal parts terrifying and thrilling to live in a place like this. It was part of the reason he had felt so strongly to move back to Tokyo the moment he could. Tokyo had become his home through and through in a mere four short years than the fifteen odd years he’s spent in his hometown.

Akira notes a secondhand clothing shop as they pass by as well as various food stalls that line down the street. The entire place seems to be a very popular entertainment district that was so full of people that Akira was astounded that him and his friends have never even heard of this area of Tokyo before.

While Akira was craning his head to take in all the different places the district proved, it seemed like Akechi had more immediate plans elsewhere and never hesitated in his step to allow Akira a chance to explore further with his quick and determined pace. The man was on a mission and it seemed that Akira was just along for the ride at the moment.

“What’s the rush, Akechi?”

The dancer only spares him a glance. “It’s a lot busier than I expected on a rainy day. I want to make sure we can get a spot.”

Akira nods. He understood why they were in a hurry, yet not at the same time. Not having any other choice but to follow Akechi’s lead since he himself had no clue as to what the dancer had in store for the both of them, Akira rushes to keep up with his swift pace.

Moments later, Akechi faulters in his step and heads for a staircase leading to the second floor of one of the buildings with Akira not far behind him. It reads Darts & Billiards Penguin Sniper overhead, but the name didn’t ring any bells for the barista.

The inside was a lot more spacious than he thought it would be. Just inside the building was a fully decked out bar with various alcohols to pick from and to his right were various pool tables and high tables. In the large room were also several dart machines pushed against the wall. It was a cozy yet exciting establishment that perfectly fit both himself and Akechi’s esthetic.

“Welcome, how can I help you two tonight?” The man behind the bar asked, looking them over.

“Two for billiards,” Akechi responds, pulling out his wallet to pay.

The man gives something of a shit eating grin towards the two and nods. He ducks under the bar to pull out two pool cues and a white ball. He trades the billiard items over to Akira to take and grabs the offered yen as payment from Akechi.

“We have a happy hour going on tonight until midnight, feel free to look over our extensive drink menu while you play.”

“Thank you, we will,” Akechi replies, already stuffing his wallet back in his pocket and moving towards one of the pool tables; blatantly ignoring the expression on the bartender’s face. It seemed like, other than themselves and the barkeep, Akira and Akechi had the entire place to themselves. Akechi finds an adequate pool table and high table to his standards and places their stuff. He then grabs the white ball from Akira’s grip.

“Have you played before?”

“Never,” Akira answers, a nervous laugh escaping.

“Alright then.” It wasn’t much a dismissal, but it was clear Akechi was plotting something. His racing thoughts were evident behind his amber eyes and it had Akira gulping in anticipation. “Would you like a drink?” Akechi asks, his eyes shining with mischievous energy.

“Ah, sure?”

Before Akira could get an order off, Akechi is already striding back over to the bar and leaning across it to get a better look at the offered alcohol. While waiting for his companion to come back, Akira notices that his gaze had lingered on a few different bottles. However, with both Akira’s eyes and ears strained to the best of his abilities and no matter how much he tried; Akira couldn’t decipher which ones drew the other’s attention. The noise in the establishment from the darts and music wasn’t deafening, but it was loud enough that it drowned out what Akechi ordered for the two of them to drink.

When it seemed like it would take a while to get their drinks, Akira sets the cues on the edge of the pool table and takes a seat at one of the chairs at the high table. He notices the bartender grabbing bottle after bottle of various alcohol’s and raises a questioning eye when he meets Akechi’s eye. Akechi, in response, only sends him a shit eating grin and turns back to the bar. Whatever Akechi had planned for them for the rest of the night was going to involve large amounts of alcohol and Akira just knows he won’t be attending class the next morning.

Even though he had expected a lot of alcohol, Akechi still managed to surprise him with the amount. The tray that Akechi sets on the high table in front of Akira was stuffed with various amounts of booze. The tray contained four larger glasses with water contained within, another two large glasses containing what looked like black tea, while the entire rest of the tray was littered with shot glasses of various colors.

“What the-“

“I figured we can turn tonight’s pool game into a drinking game,” Akechi boasts, cutting him off. “If we can’t place a ball into a pocket during our turn, we take a shot. At the end of the game the loser,” he points to a tea,” must drink this. It’s a long island iced tea.”

Over a dozen shots and a long island iced tea? Akechi was trying to kill him.

“Well sure, but-“

Akechi cuts him off once more. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a handy cap since this is your first time playing.”

His voice was lower than usual and slips off Akechi’s lips like smooth silk. It was the change in tone that screamed to Akira that Akechi was definitely scheming something that involved large amounts of alcohol and billiards. However, Akira really couldn’t tell if it was something to be worried about. So far tonight Akechi has taken him into consideration, but you never knew. Akechi might be planning to get back at him for embarrassing him all those times before with Akira’s over-the-top flirting.

“I’ll play with my right hand instead of my dominate hand and I also can’t use the sides of the table to bounce balls off of.” Akechi continues, sliding around the pool table and running his left hand along the edge as he went. His amber eyes meet his and a sensual smile graces his features. “Sound fair?”

Akira gulps at the velvety tone and barely manages to choke out a small “yes”. Akechi was figuring him out and pushing all the right buttons to get Akira worked up in his favor. If he wasn’t careful, the dancer might just surpass him on the flirting war front, and he couldn’t have that. Akira loved that small blush and cute stuttering from Akechi too much to let him win against him in that department.

Nonetheless, Akechi was fully satisfied with the result his ministrations were doing to the barista and gives Akira a devilish smirk before coming back around to stand in front of him.

Eyeing Akira up and down, daring him to protest, Akechi runs his hands up the barista’s chest and stops at his collarbone to tug on the front of his blazer. “Good,” and slowly, oh so slowly, pulls the blazer off and places it on the back of the chair that Akira was currently occupying. Blatantly making sure their eyes never left the other’s, Akechi deliberately takes his time to peel off his sweater vest and proceeds to roll up the sleeves of his under shirt. “Ready?”

“Please.”

Thoughts of things other than playing pool raced through Akira’s head at lightning fast speed. The desperation was very clear in his voice from just that one word and Akira noticed that Akechi had noticed his tone with a playful roll his eyes. He hands him a cue that, due to his more unsavory thought process, Akira didn’t notice he had picked up at some point. Zeroing in on Akechi’s expression showed that the dancer was fully aware of Akira’s depraved daydreaming and taps the top of his head with his own cue to get his full attention.

“Since it is your first time, I figured a game of eight ball would be the easiest to learn,” Akechi leans across the pool table and pushes around the try of colored balls until he found the place that satisfied him. “The rules are simple. We each have to get our balls, either solid or striped, into the pockets. Don’t get the white ball into the pocket or it’s called a scratch and it automatically ends your turn. To finish the game, we must have already pocked all seven of our balls and then knock the eight ball into one of the pockets to win.” He points to the black eight ball that joined the others in the triangle formation. “Usually you need to call which pocket you’re aiming the eight ball into, but I’ll nix that rule for you.”

“And the rules for taking a shot?”

“Not too many rule for you. One”, “he lifts a finger, “not getting your ball into one of the pockets on your turn. Two,” Akechi holds up another finger, “knocking one of my balls into a pocket during your turn. Three,” he holds up one more finger, “pocketing the white ball during your turn. And lastly, four”, another finger joins the others, “knocking a ball off the table.”

Akira inspects the sides of the pool table. “Knocking a ball off the table? Really?”

Akechi nods. “I’ve seen it plenty of times from people who don’t aim for the center of the ball or follow through with their shot correctly.”

“And you’re going to teach me how to follow thought correctly, right? Akechi-sensei?” Akira bats his eyes and hovers into Akechi’s personal space.

“Of course,” Akechi coughs. “Lean over the table.”

Instead of the reaction Akira expected, which was to get flustered, Akechi instead gets closer and wraps his arms around the barista to position him over the pool table. Akira could feel Akechi’s warm breath on his neck and freezes in place. They might have kissed before, but the sudden close contact was a new development.

Akira squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. Akechi had to get his close to him in order to teach him the right stance, right? There was no other reason for this sort of touch. None whatsoever and was certainly not anything sexual about it.

_Are you so sure about that?_

As soon as that traitorous thought entered his brain, Akira shakes it away. Now was not the time nor the place to have these kinds of thoughts.

“So, you want to grasp the cue like this,” Akechi takes his right hand and closes it around near the back of the cue stick. “Make sure your grip his firm enough to hold it in place, but loose enough to keep your wrist flexible.”

_I know something else you could grasp that would make Akechi happy._

_Shut up!_ Akira shoots back to his own traitorous thoughts. _You’re not helping!_

“Then you want to take your left hand,” Akechi guides his hand onto the table and creates a sort of bridge between his pointer finger and thumb for the cue to rest on. “Having your hand create a resting point for the cue stick will make your follow through more stable.”

“Okay,” Akira says. He had to pat himself on the back there, he actually sounded kind of normal despite himself.

Akechi seems to hesitate at the reply, humming under his breath with what sounded like disappointment. He pulls back and moves to Akira’s left side instead to instruct him. The sudden lack of warmth on his back has Akira shuddering, but he hides it pretty well with Akechi giving him a slight pout. It was an incredibly cute sight, but Akira didn’t dare to point it out.

“You’ll want to bend over the table so that your cue is almost level over it.” Akechi uses his hand to push his back down and over the table like he instructed. “Right foot back,” he kicks Akira’s leg into place. Finally, in the correct position, Akechi looks over his work. “Okay, you look fine. Try to hit the ball.” He places the white ball an inch in front of his cue and waits for Akira to hit it. “Aim for the center and walk into the shot and DO NOT jab it.”

“You got it, Sensei.” Akira relaxes his posture and sticks his tongue out slightly in concentration. The position he was in wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world and Akira didn’t think he could keep the stance for long without cramping, but he would be able to manage it in short bursts.

It isn’t hard to find the center of the white ball but, like Akechi had said, it was too easy to hit slightly off center of his target. The bridge that his left hand created for the cue to rest on was stable enough, but once it started moving it would be a little harder to keep it stable.

He walks into his shot like Akechi had instructed and waited in bated breath for where it would land. Akira hadn’t put much power into the shot, but his aim kept true. The white ball coasts forward and into the waiting rack of colored balls. The rack only slightly shifts on impact, but Akechi lets out an impressed noise all the same.

“I’m impressed,” Akechi whistles, surveying his work. “Not many people can stop themselves from punting it across the table on their first try.”

“Without your coaching, I probably would have,” Akira confesses. It was hard not to let his arm do all the work instead of the forward momentum of this body. Now he could see how easy it was for new players to blast the ball off the table.

“Ready for the real thing?” Akechi asks and replaces the triangle holder on the table to organize the slightly out of place colored pool balls.

Akira leans back up and stretches out his back. “You never told me the rules for when you have to take a shot?”

“Same as you except I also have to take a shot if any of the balls bounce off the sides and if I don’t get the eight ball into my called pocket.” The rack of pool balls are back in its proper place on the table and Akechi takes a step back to survey his work. “That sound good?”

“You have to play with your nondominant hand too, right? Are you sure you don’t want to take one of those restrictions off?” Akira knew he would be taking a lot of shots regardless, but Akechi’s handy caps still seemed too unfair even with the dancer’s apparent expertise at the game.

“I should be fine, don’t worry about me. Just focus on your shots,” Akechi’s eyes dance with excitement from the challenge and Akira happily obliges.

“You got it.”

Leaning against the table much like Akira was before, Akechi lines up his cue an inch from the white ball and towards the triangle of other colored pool balls. “I’ll take the striped ones,” he says before hitting the white ball with much greater force than Akira had. The resounding cracks of pool ball against pool ball was much louder than he expected.

Astoundingly, two stripped balls sink into two different pockets and Akira could practically feel the smug arrogance radiating off Akechi in waves. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the majority of the other balls had bounced off the sides and Akechi obliges in the penalty shot. He made sure Akira was watching before downing the entire things in one swing.

“You’re turn,” Akechi purrs, taunting him with the empty glass.

Challenge accepted, Akira surveys the table. There was one solid pool ball just outside the pocket on the middle right that Akira just pokes with little flourish into the hole for easy points. However, the other solid pool balls were going to be a little harder to sink in during this turn. Most of his had clumped along the short end of the table, making it difficult to move his arm in the position that Akechi had showed him.

Finagling his way around the balls, Akira does manage a small space to maneuver. It was tight, but doable. Right leg back, leaning forward with the cue parallel to the table, a loose but firm grasp with his right hand and, finally, making a bridge with his left hand for the cue to rest on. He would have to add a little more power this time to get the ball in, but Akira had faith he could do it. He could feel Akechi’s eyes on him, watching and judging his every motion. Usually people would crumble under the pressure, but Akira was soaking it up.

Facing a new challenge always made his blood boil in pure excitement and the added spiciness that Akechi brought to the table brought it to whole new levels that he’s never felt before. Regarding the alcohol, Akira didn’t mind the penalty game (he was all for it actually) but the more shots he had to take, the better the chance he wouldn’t be coordinated or coherent enough to win. It was a well-known fact around the Phantom Thieves and his extended friend group that Akira was a light weight among light weights. Even with the handy caps, Akira knew he was heavily outclassed when it came to billiards even without the inebriation factor.

Akira takes in a deep breath and lets it out as he rocks forward with a little more force than before. The white ball hits his target straight on and the ball soars forwards, hits another one of his balls on the way and sinks into the corner pocket.

When he sees his result, Akira allows a shit eating grin to take over his face and turns towards Akechi to see his reaction. The dancer is sipping on his glass of water, but the pride was evident in his form.

“Good job. I’m impressed you got that in,” Akechi says, a half-crooked smirk in place. “But I’m still going to kick your ass.”

Akira gives him a mischievous smile in return. “You’re on, Asskechi.”

Akechi barks out a laugh at the nickname and the two turn to fully focus on the game. Whoever won the first round had a significant advantage on the other person for the next one. The long island iced tea as the end game penalty with five different shots would destroy any coordination for anyone no matter how skilled they might be at the game.

In the end, the shots for the first game were divvied up pretty evenly. Akechi with three shots to his name and Akira with four. It was currently Akira’s turn for the last of his solid colored pool balls and Akira could already feel the buzz creeping in. Akechi’s last turn, thankfully, had ended with him accidently bouncing the white ball off the edge of the table and knocking in one of Akira’s own. This had made Akechi take two shots instead of one for that round and completely turning the game back around into even footing. The only reason Akira didn’t suspect Akechi had done it on purpose was the back and forth argument on whether or not Akechi had to take one shot or two. They even had to get the bartenders input on the debate to finally put an end to it.

Akira had won that argument, of course, just like he’s going to win this round of pool.

Leaning down and back into the familiar stance, Akira aims for the solid red ball. It was at an odd angle and had no nearby pockets to sink it into. These facts had him hesitating on whether he could make it in this turn. Does he just go for it or should he place it in a good spot for his next turn?

_Fuck it. Might as well just go for it._

Ultimately deciding to take the shot, Akira angles the cue towards the front left pocket (the closest one to the red ball) and aims for the middle of the white ball. Just as Akira was about to take the shot, a sudden crack of thunder rumbles throughout the game center, stopping him in his tracks and shaking the very foundation of the building. The lights flicker out for a second, threatening to cast them into total darkness, before coming back on.

Akira notices that Akechi already had his phone out to check the weather and straightens back up to come around to read it over his shoulder.

“Looks like the storm was upgraded to severe thunderstorm,” Akechi reports, scrolling down to look at the radar.

“Should we wait it out or call it a night?”

Akira expects Akechi to quip back along the lines of ‘too scared to continue since it’s obvious that you’re going to lose’. Instead, he brings up the train time application on his phone. “The trains have stopped. There’s no point in leaving now.”

“Good,” Akira huffs. “Because I still need to wipe the floor with you at pool.”

Akechi shoves his phone away and challenges him back. “Only in your dreams, Akira. We both know _I’ll_ be the one wiping the floor with _you_.”

“If you’re in my dreams, Akechi, then I always win.”

“Sap,” Akechi snipes back, a small blush forming on his cheeks.

“Only for you, honey.”

“Just shut up and take the shot,” Akechi growls and shoves a laughing Akira back towards the pool table.

There was another joke in there, but Akira passes it up. It was time to get serious or his fate would be sealed with the drink ominously staring him down at the high table. Back to his earlier position, Akira leans down over the table and aims for the center of the white ball once more. As Akira walks into his shot he holds his breath as the white ball speeds across the table and hitting the red ball straight on. Unfortunately, a lot of the momentum was lost in the hit and the red ball lazily coasts over to the designated pocket. Just as the ball gets to the edge of the pocket, it teeters on the edge for a moment before it, thankfully, drops inside.

“YES!” Akira couldn’t help leaping up and thrusting his fist in the air in triumph.

“… Nice shot…” It was clear that Akechi was salty about Akira actually getting it in. It was obvious that he had thought Akira would never be able to make the red ball in during this turn and it would be smooth sailing for Akechi to easily sink in the eight ball during his turn.

“Thanks, honey. You’re support means everything to mean.” Akira blows a kiss towards his companion and he could practically _see_ the steam coming out of Akechi’s ears.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, Akechi walks up to the table to take a look. Fortunately for Akira and unfortunately for Akechi, the eight ball wasn’t far from a pocket and the white ball had a straight shot to it. It was an incredibly lucky break and Akira internally sighs in relief. It was hard to admit it, but the alcohol was already really affecting him. Not enough to hinder him completely, but Akira’s limbs did feel a lot heavier than normal and his vison would get blurry if he didn’t focus enough.

Akechi rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath as Akira lines up the last shot of the game. He was tempted to taunt Akechi some more before following through with the hit but pushes the temptation away. No way in hell Akira would chance missing now and have Akechi tease him about it every chance he got for the rest of their lives.

Carefully aiming for the white ball, Akira walks into the shot. It was unfortunate, however, that Akira nor Akechi would get the chance to see where it lands as an earth-shattering crack rumbles throughout the building. The lights overhead make a fizzing noise before the game center is cast into complete darkness. Then Akira, in all his grace and charm, knocks himself into the pool table in surprise to the sudden change in lighting.

“You okay?” Akechi asks from the darkness.

“Yeah. Just surprised me is all,” Akira replies, pushing up from the table and setting the cue stick down on the surface. He wasn’t physically hurt, but his pride certainly took a critical hit. No point holding on to it since they couldn’t continue playing until the lights came back on.

Akechi’s face is illuminated across the table by his phone and Akira makes his way over with the help of his own phone’s flashlight. With the combined light of their phones, the two sit down at the high table, at a loss as to what to do next.

“You two okay over there?” The bartender suddenly appears before them, a box resting in his hands. They reply that they were fine and are handed a few candles and a single lighter. “Mind helping me light these around the room?”

With their combined effort, it doesn’t take long for them to use up the candles and making the game center light up just enough to see. The candles were mismatched and had different assortments of usage, but the candles gave the room an odd sort of charm to it with the unharmonious atmosphere.

“You two feel free to stick around until the weather lets up and the trains start running again. I’m going to see about the power,” the bartender gives them a two fingered salute and exits towards the back to the staff only room.

Akira and Akechi share a look, both of them equally bewildered by the odd situation, before breaking out into uncontrollable giggles. Of course they would be stuck in a game center during a severe thunderstorm on their first date surrounded by the most unromantic candle display on the planet.

“So, what should we do now?” Akira asks, taking a look around the room for ideas.

“Well… You can start by drinking this,” Akechi replies, pushing a long island iced tea towards him.

“What! No way!” Akira protests. He jumps up from seat and looks over the pool table. Sure enough, the eight ball was still sitting on top of the table unlike what he had thought after the lights went out. Unfortunately, the white ball _was_ absent from the surface and was, most likely, the ball that he had heard sink into the pocket after the lights went out instead of the eight ball.

“Drink up because you also have a shot you have to take with that scratch,” Akechi says as he walks up from behind him and retrieves the white ball from under the table.

“I refuse! We both know I would have made it in if it wasn’t for the sudden power outage!” Akira knows he would have made it in. It must have been when he bumped the table that the white ball went off course and ended up in the pocket instead of the eight ball.

“But you didn’t and now I’m going to win.” Without flourish, Akechi easily pockets the eight ball and gives Akira a devilish smirk. “Now drink up.”

“Let me redo the shot! I know I’ll make it in without any sudden surprises.”

“Nope, you’ve lost,” Akechi teases. “At the very least, take your loss with some grace.”

“I haven’t lost yet!”

“But you have.”

Akira and Akechi stare each other down, both refusing to back down from the mock argument. They continue to stare each other down until the staff room door opens and the bartender walks back in with a pile of blankets and a few pillows tucked under his arms.

“It looks like you guys won’t be going anywhere for a while, so I brought some blankets and pillows.” He walks over and sets them down on an unused pool table. “And you might want to call for a ride after the storm is over since the trains won’t be running again until tomorrow morning.” He looks between the two of them. “Everything okay?”

Looking at each other and then back to the bartender, they both get an idea.

“Bartender’s decision?”

“Bartender’s decision.”

After relaying the situation to the bartender, he thinks it over and walks around the pool table and then surveying the full and empty alcohol glasses on the high table. “I have come to a decision.” He picks up both long islands and hands each of them a glass. “I say it’s a tie and you both need to drink a long island iced tea and share the rest of the shots equally.”

Akechi looks likes he’s about to protest, but Akira cuts him off before he could say anything. “Bartender’s decision, Akechi.”

“… Right,” he mutters and begrudgingly accepts the alcohol.

Realizing something important, Akira had to pour salt into the wound. “ _And_ you didn’t call which pocket you were going to sink the eight ball into,” Akira taunts.

Akechi, realizing his mistake, goes red and looks away. “Fuck off, Akira.”

“And with that settled,” the bartender dusts off his hands and places them on his hips. “I’m going to close up and then head upstairs to make sure the generator is okay, but feel free to stay as long as you need to.”

“Thanks for the help and letting us stay here, Mizuki-san,” Akechi politely says, but is still very obviously salty about the tie decision.

The newly dubbed Mizuki-san either didn’t notice or didn’t care about Akechi’s thinly veiled displeasure. “Anything for a regular, Akechi-kun.” Mizuki-san gives them another two fingered salute and heads over to the bar area. He pulls down the shutters surrounding the bar, pulls out a key ring, and locks it up. “Have fun on your date!” He laughs and disappears back into the staff only area.

“I knew he was being uncharacteristically professional today. The mother fucker,” Akechi mutters, glaring daggers at the door the bartender had just exited into.

“A regular huh?” Akira cocks an eye and smirks. “What other places are you a regular at that the staff know you personally by name?”

“Just…” Akechi looks everywhere but at Akira, embarrassed for being called out like this. “Just one other place. A jazz club that’s also in the area.”

Akira barks out a laugh. “Of course you frequent a jazz club too! How very Goro Akechi of you.”

“Ah yes. How very Goro Akechi for Goro Akechi. Am I really that easy to read?” Akechi asks, rolling his eyes.

How cute that Akechi didn’t even realize how open he had left himself to be teased. “Let me guess, you only frequent six different places,” Akira taunts and Akechi gaps open mouthed at him. Akira’s smirk turns devious at the reaction and latching onto it to continue his teasing. “You only hang out here, the jazz club, the sushi restaurant, Starlight Studios, your apartment, and a convenience store near either your work or apartment, but it’s most likely in-between those two.” He pauses and reads Akechi’s reaction to the statement, liking what he finds there. “Am I wrong?”

“Yes!” Akechi pauses, his face turning red. “No… Maybe?” Akechi grits his teeth and is downright seething. Akira had definitely hit a nerve this time. “You know what, fuck you. So what if I do?”

Akira holds up his hands, trying to sate some of the hostility. “I have no problem with it as long as LeBlanc is added to that list as number seven! As for fucking me, just name the time and place honey.”

Akechi kept letting him make the same stupid joke over and over again. However, the fact that Akechi kept making the same cute expression every time he did made him want to continue doing it.

Akechi sputters and clutches his drink in a tight enough grip that his knuckles go white. “Just shut up and drink,” he groans, his face still bright red.

“Sure thing.” Akira holds up his drink and forces their glasses to clink together. “Cheers!” Akira closes his eyes and downs his drink.

The last time he had chugged a drink was at Ryuji’s birthday party last year and had been dared to chug a beer keg. Unlike the party, it was a lot easier to down the long island. The mock alcoholic tea drink had around five shots in it, but Akira could barely taste the sharp sting of alcohol while downing it. If it didn’t have such a high alcohol content, Akira would have probably added it to his short list of drinks he ordered when he went out drinking with his friends.

“Not bad,” Akira relays, setting his empty drink on the high table. Akechi’s glass soon followed next to his, the dancer deciding to join Akira in chugging his own long island.

Akechi hands him one of the four water glasses. “Drink. I won’t allow you to be hungover during our first dance session tomorrow.”

Akira grabs the offered drink. “Sure thing, honey. Anything for you.” Akechi rolls his eyes at the nickname, knowing it would be useless to protest, and takes a sip out of his own water glass.

He notices Akechi looking over the high table at the remaining shots. “There’s five left; two for you and three for me?” Akechi offered, dividing up the shot glasses. “I purposely picked shots that didn’t have high alcohol content, so these shouldn’t be too hard to finish.”

“Before we do that,” Akira says, pulling out his phone. “Let me call Haru real quick to see if she’ll pick us up after the storm blows over.”

“You have a good idea… for once,” Akechi mocks, sitting back down on the high table and nursing his half-full water glass.

After a quick phone call to Haru, Akira relays to Akechi that she would give Akira a call when her and her driver arrive to the main street outside of Kichijoji to bring them to their apartments. In the meantime, they had to hunker down as it would take a couple more hours for the storm to let up enough for a car to drive through.

“And with that, time to finish these up,” Akechi says pointing towards the waiting shots on the high table. However, Akira’s eyes catch on the waiting pile of blankets and pillows when another idea pings in his head instead.

“I have a better suggestion,” Akira offers and grabs the waiting pile. “How about building a blanket fort?”

“A… blanket fort?” Akechi blinks and worryingly eyes the innocent pile of bedding as if it had just committed murder.

“What? Have you never made a blanket fort before? They’re a lot of fun,” Akira pushes. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do during a thunderstorm when the power gets knocked out.

“But… isn’t that what children do?”

Akechi looked unsure. Akira could see in his eyes that he was very tempted to build one, but something was holding him back. The same unseeing hand Akira had noticed before holding Akechi back from doing things that would bring him joy.

 **New Mission** : Get Akechi to Cut Lose a Little and Have Fun When He Wants To

The mission had a long title, but it was a work in progress.

“Nothing in the rule book says that you _can’t_ do a blanket fort if you’re not a child,” Akira offers instead. Akira has never personally made a blanket fort after becoming a teenager, but he does remember seeing Ann, Makoto, Futaba, and Haru make one after graduating high school for a girl’s night. The photo might even still be in the group chat.

“I don’t know,” Akechi says while stealing glances towards the pile.

Akira could see it; he was so close to getting Akechi to give in. Just one more small push should do it. “Come on!” Akira releases one of his arms from the pile and grabs Akechi’s left hand instead. “Just give it a try and see if you enjoy it.”

“…Fine…”

Akechi nods, rolls his eyes, and the two get to work building the blanket fort around the available chairs and tables in the game center. At first Akechi seemed, understandably, lost as to what to do and led to Akira instructing him for a good portion of the fort building. However, the more Akechi let lose and got into the groove, the more he got into it. Picking out and placing the biggest and fluffiest blanket in their disposal on the floor where they would be sitting and even figuring out a way to create a small tunnel into the fort.

When the blanket fort was finished, it didn’t look half bad. It was large enough that both Akira and Akechi could comfortably stretch out inside, but small enough that it still felt intimate. Akira selects one of the bigger candles and carefully crawls inside after kicking off his shoes. Akechi follows suit with the tray of remaining shots and water glasses. They settle on top of the waiting plush pillows on the floor and find a comfortable position to sit.

With the sharp angles of the blankets overhead and flickering candlelight the interior was half caked in shadows. Akira felt right at home inside their makeshift fort, but it seemed Akechi was less so. His nervous fidgeting and withdrawn atmosphere gave that easily enough away.

“I propose a new drinking game,” Akira interjects, purposely halting Akechi’s negative thought process.

“O-oh?” Akechi stutters in rely, his body tensing from Akira’s stare.

“Yup! So, I think we should do a question drinking game. We take turns asking each other questions and, if there’s one we don’t want to answer, we take a shot.” Akira gestures to the tray but fixes his sight on Akechi to read his reaction to the idea.

He waits on bated breath as Akechi doesn’t say or do anything with the new proposal. Several minutes pass until Akechi starts laughing uncontrollably and throwing Akira through a loop. When Akechi was able to catch his breath, he takes pity on the confused Phantom Thief and answers the question.

“I’d be fine with that, but your idea has one fatal flaw to it,” Akechi chuckles. “What do we do when we run out of shots?”

Akira shrugs. “Um… A penalty game?”

“Fine by me,” Akechi agrees in a heartbeat. “I have more shots left, so you start.”

Akira doesn’t hesitate, already having in mind the first question he wanted to ask Akechi. “What’s your favorite sex position?”

“Not even trying to hold back, I see,” Akechi snorts, rolling his eyes.

“Answer the question Akechi or face the consequences,” Akira mock threatens and pushes a shot towards the dancer.

“Cowgirl and I’m a switch since I know that’s your next question,” Akechi seductively whispers into Akira’s ear. He then picks up his glass of water and takes a long drink, his eyes leering over the top while Akira sputters.

“You know me so well, Akechi,” Akira replies, his face beet red and willing the image of Akechi ridding him out of his mind before things got awkward. “Go ahead with your two questions.”

“Since we’re already on the topic, are you a top, bottom, or switch?” Akechi asks to the surprise of Akira.

“Switch as well,” Akira answers.

As for Akechi’s next question, it took a couple minutes for him to figure out what he wanted to ask. Finally finding a question, Akechi turns to Akira and slides down into a laying position instead. “How did you end up living about a café?”

“That’s… a pretty long story,” Akira looks away, thinking over what he should say.

“Enough that you need to take a shot?” Akechi’s voice wasn’t at all mocking, but rather concerned, picking up that it was a serious topic to ask about.

“No, no! It’s fine,” Akira exclaims. “Do you still want to hear about it? It’ll take some time to retell everything.”

“As long as you’re fine with telling it. I didn’t think it would be such a loaded question and make you uncomfortable,” Akechi nervously laughs.

“It’s okay. It starts off pretty bad but turns into the best experience of my life. It’s an experience that’s shaped me into who I am now.”

The next hour Akira retells his second year in high school but omitting the parts about being a Phantom Thief. He’s so wrapped up in his story that Akira continues on how miserable he was back home for his third year and counting down the days until he got to head back to Tokyo for university. Akechi was the perfect listener. Asking questions when Akira rushed through certain parts and actively listening the entire time.

It was halfway through the story when Akira decides to also lay down on the pillows. His life experiences before and a little after living in Tokyo were some of the hardest moments of his life and still hit him hard to this day to talk about. Back in high school, mostly during their first year as Phantom Thieves, Akira felt like he had to be the perfect leader. Never letting himself ask for help during the harder times because he _had_ to be strong for the others. Akira couldn’t let his team down. He needed to be the unwavering and unmoving leader of the Phantom Thieves and Akira couldn’t afford to show any weakness.

It took a full mental breakdown a month after restarting the Phantom Thieves again during his first year of college for him to realize that his friends never needed that kind of leader. Akira just had to be himself and they could hold each other up. It was never just a give relationship with the other Phantom Thieves, it was a give and take one. His breakdown had come with the other thieves transforming his loft into a self-help den for the next week that had Akira talk about his mental health issues over the course of the weeklong event. It was even complete with all his favorite pass times (videogames, reading, cooking, etc.) and a variety of his favorite foods always on hand. They also made sure someone was always there with him with Makoto creating a schedule for who had what time slot. Akira had never felt so loved and cared for in his life. It was a moment he will always cherish as well as a moment that keeps him afloat during his worst mental health days.

The current situation, under a mountain of blankets and the gentle glow of candlelight, reminded him of that week. The fact that Akechi, someone who he had only met a little over a week ago, was listening so attentively made his heart warm. He got mad about the assault charge, sympathetic about his loneness and then mad again about the open hostility from his schoolmates. It truly showed that Akechi did care about him. You couldn’t fake those reactions and listen to a full hour of Akira’s shitty storytelling and _not_ care.

When Akira is finally finished, they both stare up at the top of the blanket fort in comfortable silence. After dropping such a bomb, they both needed time to process everything and calm down. Akira to calm his racing emotions and Akechi his anger. Akira would put money on that Akechi was currently thinking of how he would kill the person who accused Akira of assault.

Sometime later, Akechi sits up and grabs two shots, handing one of them to Akira as he also sits back up. “I lost track on the questions during your story. Let’s both take a shot.” Akira agrees and they clink their shot glasses together before downing them. Then Akechi grabs another shot and downs that one as well, leaving it to one shot per person left on the tray.

“Ready to head back to the questions? My turn, right?” Akira asks, thinking over the next thing he wanted to ask and laying back down on his side.

“Sure, go ahead.” Akechi lays back down on his right side and gives Akira his full attention.

“Can I call you Goro?”

He sees Akechi freeze at the question, but it doesn’t last long as he sinks further into the pillows and blushes into them. A small “yeah” is mumbled into the bedding and Akira sends Goro a warm smile.

“Thank you,” Akira whispers and reaches out to hold Goro’s hand.

Goro notices and meets him halfway, squeezing their hands together when they meet. “Will you be my boyfriend?” It was obvious that Goro didn’t mean for that to be his question as he groans and turns completely on his stomach in an attempt to sink into the pillows and disappear completely. “I blame the alcohol.”

“Yes.”

Goro springs up and stares at him in amazement. “What?” He practically screeches.

“I said, yes. I’ll be your boyfriend as long as you’ll be mine.”

Goro continues to look at him with pure astonishment until being overwhelmed with laughter. His arms suddenly give out and Goro flops back down on the ground, his body shaking uncontrollably. “You can’t be fucking serious,” Goro wheezes out.

“Very serious,” Akira deadpans.

Goro rolls his eyes and reaches over to flick Akira’s forehead. “You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah,” Akira replies, his face breaking into a fond smile. “Stupid for you.”

Akira shimmies forward, his upper body an inch away from Goro’s chest, and reaches out his hand to caress Goro’s face. Goro momentarily tenses, a small gasp escaping his plush lips, before relaxing into the caress and letting Akira pull his face up to meet his. When their lips finally meet, Akira shutters as electricity cracks through his entire body. Unlike the little pecks Goro had given him twice before, this one was slow and so very sensual. It was like a dam had finally burst and it was overloading all his senses with only thoughts and feelings of Goro Akechi.

It seemed like Goro was having similar feelings as Akira feels the dancer’s body fully shudder under the kiss and frantically clings to the back of Akira’s head. They both make an effort to get closer to the other, but the awkward angle proved difficult with the tray and candle resting between them near their hips.

After what felt like an eternity, Akira remembers that they still needed to breath and reluctantly pulls away. Foreheads and noses touching, Akira and Goro take the time to catch their breath from the impromptu make out session.

Akira leans forward to steal another kiss, but Goro turns away. “We should continue the game or we’ll get sidetracked.”

“Why don’t we just down the next shots and go back to making out?” Akira protests.

Goro leers at him and flicks his forehead again. “ _I_ want to ask more questions.”

Akira pouts, but relents, shifting back to his original position. “How did you get into dancing?” He seeks Goro flinch and immediately backpedals. “You don’t have to say that! Ah… I totally have another question in mind.”

Goro places a finger on his lips to silence him and shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. It seems we’re both asking questions tonight that seem innocent but aren’t.” Goro smirks. “Except my answer isn’t an hour long.”

“Ouch. I’m wounded.”

Still on his side, Goro props himself up with his elbows and takes a deep breath. “My mom and I used to watch dancing shows on television when I was a kid. It’s one of the few things we always did together since she had to work a lot since she was a single mother. When I expressed an interest in dancing, she introduced me to our neighbor, who used to be a dance teacher, and asked her to teach me how to dance.” Goro pauses, a far-off look to his eyes.

“You okay?” Akira reaches out and brushes a stray piece of hair out of Goro’s eyes. “We can stop there.”

Goro blinks, coming back to the present, and continues. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just got lost reminiscing. Where was I… Right. My mother had to work a lot to keep us afloat, but she always made it a point to watch my performances.” Goro gives a soft laugh and a warm smile spreads across his face. “Suzuki-san used to put on these small dance recitals for me in her backyard.”

“That’s really sweet, Goro.”

“Yeah… But that happiness didn’t last long. My mother was reaching her limit and, when I started school, her mental health got worse. I got bullied a lot because I liked to dance. I was a boy and it was weird for a guy to love doing girly things. She tried to get the bullying to stop, but the parents turned on her instead because they couldn’t believe their child could ever bully another. I…” Tears sprung to Goro’s eyes and Akira reaches out to thread their hands together. He squeezed their joined hands and gives Goro a reassuring smile when he looks up. Goro takes another deep breath and continues. “I lost her to her mental illness not long after.”

“I so sorry Goro,” Akira whispers, his voice breaking the fragile silence.

Goro clears his throat and squeezes his hand back. “So, to answer your question, it was my mother who got me into dancing. When I turned eighteen, I was determined to make it my job so I could keep that connection with her.”

“That’s _really_ sweet, Goro”

“You’ve already said that Akira” Goro says, rolling his eyes.

“But it’s true!”

“Whatever,” Goro looks down at their clasped hands. “Should we do a rapid-fire round?”

“Let’s do it.”

They both sit up and, for an energized moment, stare each other down; both of them daring the other to start.

“Can we take a quick picture?” Akira starts off.

“Yes.”

They scrunch together and Akira snaps a quick picture of them together. The light wasn’t the greatest with the candlelight, but it still turned out really cute. The tops of their heads rested against each other at an angle and, while Akira gave his signature smirk in the photograph, Goro had a small, but sweet smile on his face. While Goro wasn’t paying attention, Akira sets it as his wallpaper on his phone to commemorate their new relationship status.

“Did you just set that as your wallpaper?” Goro accuses.

“I did.”

Goro just rolls his eyes. “Make sure you send it to me later.”

“Will do!” Akira exclaims, already repulling out his phone to send it to him. “What’s your favorite sweet?”

“Pancakes. What’s your favorite coffee bean?”

“Ethiopian Mocha Harrar. What’s your sexuality?”

“Gay and yours?”

“Bisexual. What’s your plan for the group dance?”

Instead of answering, Goro grabs his shot and downs it without missing a beat. “Have you ever dated someone before?”

“Yes. What’s your favorite dance move?”

Goro pauses, squinting his eyes at Akira. “You’ve dated before? Who?”

This time, Akira pauses from the strange tone of voice from Goro. “You didn’t answer my question, Goro. Time for a penalty game!” Akira tries to tease, but it comes out strained as he was lost as to what he had said wrong that caused this strange reaction from Goro.

“Fine, but answer my question first,” Goro growls out.

This time Akira could clearly hear the anger in Goro’s voice and gulps. Did he already fuck this up? Hopefully their relationship wouldn’t be in competition for the shortest relationship ever.

“I briefly dated Makoto in high school, and nothing really happened. It didn’t take long for us to realize that I only thought of her as a friend and that she played for the other team,” Akira rushes out, trying to relive some of the tension in the fort.

“Oh…” Goro looks taken back by the answer. To Akira’s surprise, Goro’s face suddenly turns bright red and he immediately turns onto his other side to hide his face with his back now facing towards Akira.

_Oh…_

Mentally slapping himself when the dots finally connect for how stupid he was, Akira crawls over to Goro and looms over him. “I get it now. You’re jealous that I dated someone before you, Goro.” Akira laughs when Goro tries halfheartedly to shoo him away.

“Shut up. I was not,” Goro whines, curling up.

“Nope! Time for the penalty game,” Akira declares, draping himself over Goro. “I won’t let you escape.”

“Oh my god, fine!” Goro shoves Akira off him as he sits back up. “You’re truly insufferable.”

“But you like me anyway,” Akira laughs. Goro shoots him a death glare, but Akira just laughs again and sits up as well. “Your penalty is...” Akira pauses on purpose, getting Goro to send him another glare. “You have to use my lap as a pillow for the rest of the game.”

Goro’s glare and blush deepen. “Fuck you.”

“Another time Goro, but for now,” Akira pats his thighs, “come here.”

“I fucking hate you,” Goro growls, but crawls over anyway and lays his head down on Akira’s lap.

“I love you too, Goro!”

Goro is tense when he first lays down, but slowly relaxes into the new position and Akira lets him take his time before continuing the game. Akira expected Goro to protest more than he has for using Akira’s lap as a pillow for the rest of the game, but it seemed Goro was slowly warming up to it instead. Akira would have relented if Goro really did have a problem with it, he wasn’t that cruel, but it was nice knowing that Goro already trusted him enough to do this.

Seeing that Goro was finally relaxed enough, Akira decided to put his next plan into action and weaves his fingers through Goro’s soft brown locks. He feels Goro momentarily tense up when his fingers first make contact, but he realizes what’s happening and turns to mush in his lap. Kawakami had taught him years ago the varies ways to massage other people and he’s glad he hasn’t lost his touch.

However, something happens that doesn’t go according to Akira’s plan. Before long Goro’s soft breathing reaches his ears and Akira stops petting Goro’s head long enough to realize that he had fallen asleep. With the combination of the heavy amounts of alcohol consumption, full stomach, late time, and comfortable atmosphere, it was inevitable that Goro would fall asleep in this situation.

Not having the heart to wake him up, Akira carefully reaches over Goro and grabs the remaining shot. To celebrate his defeat, Akira downs the shot and places it back on the tray. However, before joining Goro in taking a nap, he makes sure that his phone is on full volume for when Haru eventually calls and downs the rest of his water for good measure. The last thing he wanted was to be hungover during their first dance session together tomorrow afternoon.

With a warm heart, Akira gives Goro’s head one last pet, blows out the candle, and joins him sleeping inside their self-made blanket fort. He had accomplished his goal of getting together with Goro tonight, even if Goro had been the one to ask it and he also had a great time tonight. There were a few hiccups throughout the date, but they worked it out incredibly well. If that didn’t scream how well they worked together, Akira didn’t know what did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you guys do as well!  
> Also, shout out to my friend elfenphoenix for letting me use her own blanket fort as reference for this chapter. Her writing is a lot better than mine and was the person who encouraged me to write when I was anxious to try, so please check out her work if you like Voltron, Ace of Diamond, or Dragon Age.


	10. May 10th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I added new tags! Please be aware in case it might be triggering for some individuals.

Akira woke up positively giddy for the day ahead. Even with the surprisingly comfortable nap he had taken with Goro last night in their pillow fort and skipping his classes for the day, he still didn’t get much sleep last night. It was _finally_ his turn to get private dance lessons at Starlight Studio with Goro and his body vibrated with excitement from that fact. It had kept him up last night after getting dropped off by Haru. Even after the sky had started to lighten up from the morning sun, Akira kept waking him up every hour or so to remind him of his overwhelming excited from upcoming appointment. It seemed Goro had completely taken over his every thought; the memories of last night seeping into every brief dream of his that Akira had managed to conjure up.

There was a polite knock to his door and Akira was getting out to bed just as Sojiro opens the door with his own key. He kicks the door shut behind him and places a tray of piping hot coffee and curry onto Akira’s makeshift kitchen table.

“Noon is as long as I’m going to let you sleep in, kid,” Sojiro grunts out as he judgingly surveys Akira’s loft. Finding the space adequate enough in its cleanliness, Sojiro gives an approving nod and gestures to the waiting food. “Better get going soon or you’ll miss that dance thing you were telling me about.”

Akira sends him a sidelong grin and hops onto one of the two chairs stationed at the small table. “Thanks boss. ‘Preciate it.” He immediately digs into the food offered to him as Sojiro, surprisingly, leans against the wall next to the doorway instead of heading back downstairs. Sojiro crosses his arms across his chest and burns a disapproving stare into his surrogate son’s head as Akira shoves curry into his mouth to avoid the obvious question on the older man’s lips.

“Kid.” Sojiro’s hardened voice cuts through the silence and Akira admits defeat upon hearing the tone. It was only a matter of time until he had to talk with Sojiro about what happened last night, and it would be better if he ripped the Band-Aid off now instead of further agitating the older man.

“O-okay! I’m sorry, Boss! I didn’t mean to worry you guys,” Akira squeaks out, but he knew it was futile.

“You’re _sorry_.” Sojiro grits his teeth and straightens out, uncrossing his arms in the process. “Not _one_ returned call or text back from you. Not a single _word_. Is it so hard just to send _one simple text_ so I know you’re okay?” Sojiro only raised his voice against him when Akira has royalty fucked up and _boy_ did Akira fuck up this time.

Sojiro was beyond pissed.

While he was fawning over Goro and his gorgeous ass during the billiards game last night, Sojiro had sent him a warning text about the upcoming storm suggesting that they take a rain check on the rest of the date and to head back home before it got too bad. However, since Akira had muted his phone, he didn’t see the message nor the proceeding texts and calls asking about his safety. It wasn’t until Akira was inside Haru’s car in the early hours of the morning did he notice the messages from his surrogate father.

According to Sojiro some of the streets had majorly flooded from the sudden downpour and scattered areas around Tokyo had lost power as well. It was understandable that any parent would be worried about their child (even as an adult) in these types of situations. Needless to say, Akira had immediately called him back and Sojiro, ever the patient and understanding angel, told him to just get home safely and to get some sleep, they would talk about the situation in the morning. Akira had gotten home safe, managed to get some, albeit fitful, sleep. With it now being the next morning, er… afternoon now caused this chat a tad bit overdue.

“I’m really am sorry, Boss. I never meant to worry you or Futaba.” Akira fiddles with a strand of hair, a nervous habit that he’s never been able to break. It was obvious that the sole reason Sojiro hadn’t gone into full dad mode last night was because of Futaba. More-than-likely she had hacked into his phone at some point to find his location and saw through his camera to see if he was okay.

Taking off his glasses to pinch his nose in frustration, Sojiro takes a deep breath and lets it out with a deep gruff. That single motion causes Sojiro’s whole body to unwind, his anger to dissipate and fully reminding Akira of just how old Sojiro truly was. His surrogate father took care of himself (other than his bad smoking habit) and, to Akira, it seemed like he would live forever. However, in this very moment, evidence of Sojiro’s age was never more apparent than it was now. The fact that Akira, himself, had been the one to cause Sojiro so much grief that it had caused him to look like _this_ … was a cold slap to the face.

Akira’s stomach churned uncomfortably from this realization and he forces his hand down. “Boss? You okay?”

“I’m getting way too old for this, kid.” Sojiro grabs a cloth from his pocket to wipe off his glasses, holding the spectacles up to light to see if he missed any smudges, and slides them back on his face. “With you and Futaba still doing this Phantom Thief business and now this...” He trails off before remembering himself and clearing his throat to cover up his moment of ‘weakness’. “I’m willing to overlook it this time, but I expect you to be better next time,” Sojiro grunts out and beelines for the door out of the loft. Sojiro is already halfway through the doorway when he halts to a sudden stop with the doorknob in a death grip. “Hey, kid,” this time Sojiro’s voice was soft, his voice barely audible to Akira in his makeshift kitchen area.

“Yeah Boss?”

“I’m glad you’re safe.”

Sojiro shuts the door behind him as he exits Akira’s loft as his protegee watches him go with a soft smile on his face. For all of Sojiro’s awkwardness at being a father figure in both his and Futaba’s life, he was pretty damn good at it.

*~*

Forgoing his shower for later grants Akira enough time to get ready and head over to Starlight Studio. He would have preferred getting there a little early so he could talk with Goro for a bit before they started the lesson, but alas, it was not meant to be. Akira makes it to his destination with only a minute to spare and he practically flings the entrance open in his rush. The former exhilaration was back in full force and Akira could feel the amusement emanating from Marie in waves as he enters the lobby.

“Goro is already all set for your appointment. You know where to go.” Marie waves him off towards the hallway and gives him a Cheshire grin in the process. As Akira passes the waiting receptionist, Marie’s voice, just barely above a whisper, reaches his ears. “If you hurt him, I’ll break your neck.” All former cheeriness has vanished from her voice, leaving only the promise of bloodshed and murder in its wake.

The temperature of the lobby suddenly drops twenty degrees and Akira shivers from the chill. Sensing that the threat was very much indeed true, Akira ignores his every instinct telling him to run and turns back around to respond.

“I never have and never will have any intension of hurting Goro.”

Akira’s hopes his tone conveyed just how much he meant that statement. Goro was the first-person Akira has ever felt this passionately for in his life. He wanted so desperately for this relationship to last and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Goro in any way.

Marie surveys his face, looking Akira over for anything and everything that would say he was lying. Not finding anything that wasn’t to her liking, Marie relaxes into her chair and goes back to her usual uncaring receptionist attitude. The lobby’s temperature goes back to normal and Akira holds in another shiver from the sudden change.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Marie finally says, letting out a yawn. “We don’t do refunds, so you better head over there soon or you’ll be labeled as a no show.”

“Will do,” Akira responds back, barking out a laugh. He’s sliding open the door to Goro’s room when Marie decides to yell one last thing to him.

“Make sure you bring coffee with you next time! Your coffee is so much better than the shit that Goro picks up from the café down the street!”

Sending a confirmation her way, Akira walks inside Goro’s studio laughing and notices that his new boyfriend is currently putting away his broom and shaking his head in distain to Akira’s and Marie’s conversation. “Now we’ve gone and spoiled her,” Goro says, huffing out a small laugh. “It was like it was only last week Marie was demanding chain store coffee instead of instant and now she’s onto gourmet. Whatever shall we do.”

Catching onto the joke, Akira gives his own input. “It _was_ only last week, Goro. And you can’t tell me you’re able to go back to the chain store coffee after having LeBlanc’s.”

As expected, Goro flushes from the jab. In a sad attempt to hide said blush, Goro clears his throat and points to the ground in front of him. “We should get started on the lesson. Your tardiness has been noted and a strike will be added to your profile.”

“What? Goro!” Akira whines, but complies with Goro’s demands and drags himself over to stand in front of him. “So mean…” Akira grumbles out as well for good measure.

“But since I like you, I _guess_ I’ll leave you off with a warning this time,” Goro continues.

“Thanks babe.” Akira reaches forward to give his boyfriend a quick peck on the lips and feels a thrill of excitement race up his body. Goro was his boyfriend now. He could give him kisses like this whenever he wanted. The realization of this fact had Akira leaning forward to kiss him again, but Goro holds his hand up and shoves him away instead.

“As much as I would love to continue, we really should start the warmup. You have less appointments than the rest of your friends and I don’t want you to fall behind.”

“You could always give me private lessons if I fall behind,” Akira says and gives Goro a wink to send the inuendo home.

Goro just blinks at him in confusion. “Isn’t… isn’t that what we’re doing right now?”

Akira blinks right back, hesitation hovering on his lips. “I mean… I guess so?”

They then proceed to stare at the other in awkward silence; one trying to figure out how to get back to the former relaxed atmosphere, the second trying desperately to keep the embarrassment off his face as he slowly realizes he had completely missed the other’s blatant innuendo.

“Anyway,” Goro pips up, clearing his throat. He could still save this conversation before it becomes unbearable. “We should really get started with the warmups.”

“…Right.”

Since a majority of the dance moves Goro was going to teach Akira today relied heavily on snappy arm and leg movements, Goro took the time to make sure that their shoulders and hips were properly stretched and warmed up. He had them focus on rotating their shoulders and wrists, a few arm cross stretches and a brief set of lunges and a handful of different dynamic stretches in the hip and upper leg areas before setting them up in the middle of the room in front of the floor to ceiling mirrored wall.

“Can you see me okay?” Goro asks, using the mirror to see Akira nod his head in confirmation. “Good. Much like Futaba, I’ll be teaching your dance in segments. When you’ve learned the full dance, we’ll add it all together during your last two sessions so not to overwhelm you.”

Akira nods with a glazed look in his eye, his full attention on his boyfriend. “Gotcha.”

Goro sighs and shoots him a glare. “I know you’re thinking about something inappropriate, Akira.”

Akira shoots him a cocky smirk in return and shrugs. “Guilty. You know me so well already, Goro. I’m impressed,” he made sure to drop his voice a syllable, noticing that Goro had to hide a shiver from the tone. Did Goro have a voice kink? Or a compliment kink? Akira had to further study this; it was very important after all.

“ _Akira_ ,” Goro hisses his way. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Akira says, batting his eyelashes and fully playing up the innocent card. “Whatever could you be talking about, Goro? Are _you_ thinking of something naughty?”

“You little- “Goro suddenly cuts himself off and sends Akira a look that screams ‘I’m so fucking done with you’. In response to the look, Akira blows a kiss his way and Goro rolls his eyes in heavy discontent. “Why did I ever agree to go out with you?”

“I don’t know. Must have been my irresistible charm and grace,” Akira jibs back.

Remembering back on yesterday’s conversation, Goro jibs right back. “As I’ve told you before, I have yet to see any charm or wit come from you.”

“Why must you wound me so, Goro?” Akira whines, his hand grasping at the fake wound on his chest from Goro’s insult.

His boyfriend chooses to ignores him. “I’m going to start by showing you the full segment of the dance you’ll be learning today step by step.”

He gets down to the floor, his left leg kneeling while his right let crouches down, parallel to the floor. Goro uses his left hand to stabilize himself and juts out his right arm to the side. “This will be your starting position, next you’ll snap your head up like so,” snapping his head up Goro stares straight ahead and his eyes find Akira’s curtesy of the mirror. “Next, stand up completely straight and pull your arms back.” He mimics the actions as he says them, making sure that Akira is paying attention.

The rest of the lesson went as follows, Goro would show him a few steps and Akira would do his best to replicate them until he had the seal of approval to move on to the next one. Goro was even pleased to find Akira adding little flares here and there to add his own personality to the dance piece. Goro lets him do as he pleases as he notices Akira adding a small smirk or hip thrust to certain parts. As long as the main steps were followed and it didn’t throw the sequence out of whack from the music, Goro didn’t care what Akira did with it. This was supposed to be _Akira’s_ dance, after all. Goro was glad that Akira was invested enough in the piece to put himself into it. It was a compliment to Goro’s skills.

It was hard to admit, but Akira was a knack at dancing and, infuriating as it was, Akira did have a particular grace to him. It was clear that Akira worked out during his free time, but everything about it felt off. It was almost as if that grace that he displayed in his dancing had a hint of… bloodthirstiness to it…

No. That wasn’t… quite right. The way that Akira moved… it was as if he was on a battlefield. A place where even the simplest of mistakes could cost him his life at any moment’s notice. His grey eyes reflected those of a warrior going into combat, eye that were all too familiar to the horrors and thrills of many past battles both won and lost.

It should unnerve him that Akira had all the grace and danger of a panther when he danced, but Goro couldn’t help but get drawn further into him with every over dramatic twirl or flick of the wrist. It was intoxicating to watch. So much so that Goro didn’t realize that Akira’s session should have ended ten minutes ago or when it turned to a half hour over time. Then an hour and then again at two. They might have kept going if Marie didn’t soon interrupt after the two-and-a-half-hour mark of when the session should have ended.

The static noise of the overhead speaker springs to life and a second passes before Marie’s voice echoes throughout the room. “Yo, Goro. If you’re done fucking your boyfriend already, you have a customer out in the lobby waiting for you.”

Normally Marie’s teasing, especially when it came to his sex life, would get him flustered, but the odd tilt in Marie’s voice over the loudspeaker had him pausing. Combining the fact that Akira was his only afternoon appointment for that day had Goro hesitating and uneasiness seeping into every pore of his body. Very few people put Marie on edge and whoever it was out in the lobby was one of them. Narrowing down his list of possible people, Goro’s eyes widen when a certain person comes to mind.

It had to be…

Goro pulls away from Akira and heads over to the pantry to grab a fresh towel to wipe off his sweat and chugging the rest of his water bottle for good measure. He had been showing Akira how he should be positioning his arms during a certain part of the dance sequence since he kept messing it up, but Goro guessed that he would have to send Akira home with it as homework for next time instead. He didn’t think they would have any more time tonight to work on the move if it was who he thought it was waiting in the lobby for him.

“We’ll have to call it here for the night, so please stretch out your muscles while I’m gone and feel free to take any of the towels, waters, or protein bars if you need them,” Goro listed offhandedly.

It was clear Goro’s mind was on something else and was acting entirely on autopilot. Akira had barely managed to walk a few steps over to his boyfriend before Goro was already taking off and sliding open the door to the hallway.

“I’ll be right back. This shouldn’t take too long.”

Goro gives him that painfully obvious fake smile of his and quickly bolts out of the room. Akira rushes over to his boyfriend, frantic to see what was wrong, but was too late as the door slides shut on his face. He’s tempted to reopen the door, his fingers already hovering over the handle, and run after Goro to make sure he was okay, but Akira forces his hand down. Whatever has gotten Goro so anxious has to be about that customer in the lobby, but Akira was stumped as to what to do in this situation. Whoever this person was they were one of Goro’s clients and, because of this fact, Akira had no right to interfere in Goro’s work life no matter how worried he was about his boyfriend.

Instead of working himself up over something he couldn’t control, Akira does as Goro requested of him and got to work stretching out his worn-out muscles. Even though he had made it a habit to workout several times a week and made frequent trips into the metaverse, today’s dancing had still exhausted him. His muscles were screaming in protest from being overworked, but it was a nice ache that left him satisfied.

Akira had already finished his exercises, as well as a full bottle of water, and was currently halfway through a protein bar by the time he hears the sliding doors to the studio room reopen and his boyfriend reappearing in the doorway. When a solid fifteen minutes had passed and there had been no sign of Goro’s return, Akira’s anxiety had reached new heights while he desperately tried not to think too hard about the ‘shouldn’t take too long’ part of Goro’s departure. Seeing his boyfriend, safe and sound, quietly reentering his studio space sent a rush of relief through Akira’s body. That is, until he noticed something very wrong about Goro’s posture and expression.

It was clear to anyone who knew Goro that he wasn’t doing okay. His whole body had tensed up, like a frightened mouse waiting for the other shoe to drop while his expression showed a painfully polite smile behind eyes that had lost all light to them. And it was these very eyes that scared Akira the most. He was used to seeing Goro’s eyes sparkle like rubies when he laughed, rage like the brightest fire when he was irritated, and mellow out like the finest of red wines when he was content. Seeing his boyfriend’s eyes, once so full and bright just moments ago when he was teaching Akira the steps to a dance that he was proud of go to absolutely nothing reflected in them…

It was concerning and downright distressing to witness.

“Goro?” Akira asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you okay?”

When he doesn’t receive a response, or even an acknowledgement that Goro had heard him, Akira reaches out his hand to grab one of his boyfriend’s in hopes that it will bring him back from wherever his thoughts had taken him. However, Akira never gets the chance as Goro suddenly slaps his hand away. It doesn’t hurt physically, but Akira flinches like it does and tries to read the new expression on Goro’s face and sees…

Fear. Pure, unfiltered fear.

“Don’t touch me!” Goro screeches, scurrying back up into the only unmirrored wall of the studio and shaking. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he hisses, cradling the hand that slapped Akira’s away to his chest.

“Goro?” Akira asks again, his voice as soft as a feather. “What’s wrong?”

Goro’s eyes still held that distant look, like his thoughts were deluding his vision and showing him things that weren’t there. Something had to have happened in the lobby. The only times Akira has ever seen someone react this way was Futaba, and it was before they had stolen her heart. Something had triggered Goro into having a traumatic episode and he had no idea about what to do without making it worse in the progress. What should he do?

“Go away,” Goro hisses out instead, his breathing becoming labored and short. “Leave!”

Akira knew that he wouldn’t be any help if he stayed but leaving Goro alone during a episode was out of the question. What should he do? Think Akira, think! Unconsciously, Akira’s eyes start taking a look around their surroundings, categorizing everything and anything in the room that could help him. It was a survival tactic that Akira had learned long ago during sticky situations in the metaverse and, hopefully, it would help him now too.

Locking eyes with one of the loudspeakers overhead, Akira hurriedly glances around for the intercom. If he could contact Marie, maybe she might be able to help Goro. Luckily enough, the intercom was near the windows and on the opposite side of the room from Goro. He would be able to slowly back up into it without getting any closer to Goro and, hopefully, prevent any further mental trauma to his boyfriend.

“Okay, Goro,” voice still light, Akira holds up his hands. “I’m just going to slowly back up and call Marie for you, okay? I won’t touch you. I promise.”

Goro doesn’t answer, his eyes still locked onto him with that same hazy expression. Here, but not fully there.

Taking his silence as permission, Akira slowly backs up until he hits the wall behind him. He touches middle button on the intercom, before it springs to life with a faint static noise and an irritated ‘what’ from Marie.

“Hey, it’s Akira. I think Goro is having some sort of episode and I don’t know how to help him.”

A few seconds of silence on Marie’s end before a, “Fuck! Give me a second,” pushes through the static. About a minute later, one that felt like it was an eternity and a half to Akira, he hears the sounds of pounding footsteps running down the studio’s staircase. The footsteps stop outside the door to Goro’s studio and it slowly slides open to reveal, not Marie, but who Akira recognizes as the former idol, Risette. Akira had forgotten that she worked here.

“Goro-chan? Can you hear me?” Risette asks, making hairline steps into the room and carefully sliding the door shut behind her. “It’s me, Rise.”

“R-rise?” The former tension in the room dissipates as Goro turns to look at the former idol with a look of recognition on his face. The hazy look was still lurking behind his eyes, but the effect Rise had on Goro was almost instantaneous. “Don’t let him…” Goro’s expression hardens slightly, glancing back at Akira. “I don’t want to. Don’t let him. Please!”

Goro’s tone turns desperate as he pleads with Rise and Akira sees pinpricks of tears welling up in Goro’s eyes as his voice cracks. Akira, rooted to the ground, feels a rush of guilt through his entire body. He didn’t think he was the cause of Goro’s sudden episode, but Akira certainly had ignited the flame for it to happen. Words for hard for him, so touch came so naturally to Akira to show affection to those he cared about; _especially_ to those who were in pain. It was like instinct to reach out to Goro like he had, now he’s completely regretting it. Akira should have realized that Goro didn’t want to be touched in that moment! But he did and now Goro was hurting because of his careless actions.

“It’s okay, Goro-chan. I won’t let him,” Rise holds out her hands and Goro hesitantly reaches out to grab them. Once in her grasp, Rise rubs soothing circles into his palms with her thumbs. “Let’s go upstairs, okay? Chie and Yukiko are waiting upstairs in the lounge for us with some tea and cake. Does that sound good?”

A bit of hesitation, before Goro lets out a small, “Yeah…”

“Okay.”

Rise slides the door back open and guides Goro, by hand, out of the room and down the hallway to the elevator. It’s just moments later when Marie strides in, taking rushed, stomping steps across the room and towards the frozen Akira against the wall.

“What the hell happened!” Marie screeches, getting right in his face and jabbing a perfectly manicured finger at Akira’s chest. “You better not have done anything to Goro, or you’ll be coming out of here on a stretcher!”

Akira mentally shakes his head to get rid of the jumbled mess of emotions whirling around his mind. He would have to work through those feelings later. For now, he needs to focus completely on Marie. Akira retells, in the best detail he could remember, the past events of the last half hour. From the moment Marie called over the loudspeaker about the customer in the lobby and how Goro reacted to the news to Marie walking in to confront Akira about the situation.

Marie narrows her eyes at him once he was done and dropping her hand from his chest. “You better not be fucking lying,” she hisses out.

Akira shakes his head.

She roams over his face, looking for even the tiniest hint of Akira being deceitful, and backs off after not finding anything. Still glaring, Marie turns away and sighs. “Shit… I should have… I shouldn’t have let him… Fuck!” She drags her hand through her hair in frustration. “This is so fucked!”

Akira stays silent, watching her while Marie works through whatever it was she was going through. However, he does flinch slightly when Marie suddenly juts out her hand and once again hitting his chest.

“Phone.”

He scrabbles over to his workout bag, digging around the side pockets for his cell phone to hand to Marie. Once Akira finds it, he drops it into Marie’s waiting hand and watches as she exchanges their phone numbers.

“I’ll send you updates about Goro’s condition throughout the night. If you get an unknown phone number texting you, it’s probably Rise with updates as well.” She hands Akira back his phone and pockets her own. “You should head out. I need to clean up this place.”

“Okay…” Akira zips up his workout bag and heads for the door. Just as he’s about the exit into the hallway, Akira stops and turns back to Marie. “Did I do anything? Did I hurt Goro?” Akira had to know. He couldn’t leave until he knew whether or not his actions had hurt Goro in some way. Or… if he was cause of Goro’s episode in the first place.

Marie scoffs at him as she grabs the mop. “Do you really think I would exchange numbers with you _and_ be willing to send you updates on his condition if you did?”

“I guess not…” Akira trails off. He isn’t fully satisfied with the answer, but it seems it would be the best response Marie was willing to give him on what happened.

Akira takes another step out into the hallway when Marie’s voice calls him back. “No. It wasn’t your fault.” Akira turns back around to look at her. “I’m sure Goro will tell you why this happened eventually, but that’s not for me to decide. Goro’s business is his alone.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, Marie.” She waves him off and Akira finally takes his leave out of the studio. Marie sure had a prickly personality, but underneath all that, she truly was a good person. Someone who would do anything for those she cared about and someone who Akira couldn’t help but admire.

Everything in Akira screamed at him that he had to do something, anything, to help his boyfriend, but his head told him otherwise. Unfortunately, it seemed that his presence hurt more than helped Goro in this situation. It was clear by the way Goro didn’t seem to recognize him but did recognize Rise. This fact was even more apparent when it seemed Goro had thought Akira would hurt him.

For now, Akira would just have to head home and maybe try to do some homework while he waited for Marie and Rise’s updates. He wasn’t used to being in a position where he couldn’t help someone, and it sucked. Akira could only put his faith in that Goro’s coworkers knew what they were doing and hope that his boyfriend would be fine in the morning.

He definitely wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not an expect on any kind of mental illness and the PTSD episode written in this chapter is based on one of my own.
> 
> Sorry for the long wait! After school started ramping back up for the semester, it was really hard to sit down to write this fic after writing papers basically every day for my classes. Hopefully, at the end of this month, I'll be able to push out a few more chapters during my winter break.


	11. May 10th (Part 2)/ May 11th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some potentially triggering stuff at the beginning of the chapter, please mind the tags.

Throwing himself into bed with a drawn-out groan, Goro dives under the various blankets scattered on top and grasping at his pillow to bury his face into. Even with the door to his bedroom firmly shut and the blankets masking the sounds, Goro could still hear Naoto rummaging around his common room for extra blankets and pillows for them to sleep with on his couch. Further burying his face into his pillow with another groan, Goro grits his teeth and pounds the mattress next to him with his fist to try to dissipate his growing anger and embarrassment.

He _hated_ that Naoto was staying over for the night and making sure that he took a day off of work the next day to recuperate. However, he also understood that their worries, a sentiment that all the staff a Starlight reciprocated, for his mental health after his major PTSD episode was nothing to take lightly. So, it was left to Naoto to watch over him in case he relapsed again. It had been over a year since his last one and one that had barely lasted a couple minutes, but there was no denying that this time’s episode had to be one of his worst ones yet and Goro loathed to be treated like this. Like a child that needed to be watched over and coddled whenever something negative happened in their life.

He had gotten over this! Or, at least, he should have. Goro had always made sure to take his medication every day and at the same time as was recommended. He made regular appointments with his therapist and was told that he was on the fast track to recovery. But one, measly little visit from that man had reverted him back to the. Very. Fucking. Beginning. Like his countless hours of hard work and battling his own mind for the past few years had been for _absolutely_ _nothing_. The walls he had painstakingly built brick by brick. The multiple failsafes he had created specifically for these kinds of situations. None of it had mattered. All that work and effort… For nothing. He felt so god damn _weak_. Was all that work even worth it? Would anything even help him now, and he was doomed to do this harrowing dance over and over again until he finally ended it all?

Just like his mother?

Goro suddenly feels the familiar tightening of his throat, the pinpricks of tears threatening to spill once more, and the edges of his eyes beginning to darken.

Bolting up from his bed, Goro forces himself back on his feet and takes the few steps over to his door to flick his light switch on. Thankfully this time around Goro was in the comfort of his own bedroom and not the public area of his workspace. Adding onto the fact that this time around he had more of a warning before the episode could fully spring into place made it easy to stave off having another full and distressing episode tonight.

Goro grabs a tube of putty that he keeps next to his bed specifically for this exact purpose and starts to knead into the pliant material as he works grooves into the carpet with his feet. He stretches the putty across his chest with both hands before squashing it back down into a ball. The putty seeps between his knuckles and fingers as Goro grips the clump tightly in his grasp and tries to focus on the unique sensation it brought. It took him several times of repeating this process before he feels his throat untighten and for his vision to clear completely. Goro still feels the tears threatening to spill behind his eye lids, but it was easy to hold them back as he makes his way back to his bed and falls back on top of the covers. He still continues to play with the putty as his eyes gaze out of focus at his bedroom ceiling. Grimacing, Goro feels irritation rise up from the fact that he had forgotten to turn off the lights. He sure as hell wasn’t getting back up just to turn them off.

Spying his phone sitting innocently next to him on his nightstand, Goro contemplates for a moment texting Naoto and asking them to turn off his bedroom lights for him. His phone is already in his hand before Goro realizes that it’s there and opens up his messaging app. However, what stops him is the name at the top of his most recent messages. Again, his body makes the choice for him before his mind is able to keep up and his ears pick up the familiar ringing of an outgoing phone call as he places the device next to his ear on the pillow.

It only rings twice before the clearly surprised and worried tone of his boyfriend tickles his eardrums.

“ _Goro_?” Akira’s voice is hesitant, clearly apprehensive about setting him off again.

“Hey.” Goro feels his nails dig into the putty still in his right hand out of frustration. I guess even Akira was going to treat him like fragile glass tonight. Instead of taking out his anger and frustration on his undeserving boyfriend, Goro starts squeezing his putty again and takes a deep breath before continuing. “Sorry you had to witness that.”

He hears Akira give out a breathy laugh from over the phone. “ _There’s nothing to be sorry for Goro. If anything, I’m sorry I couldn’t help and_ …” A pause as Goro also pauses his ministrations with his putty with it as he waits for Akira to continue. “ _And I’m pretty sure I probably made it worse_.”

Goro lets out a snorts and resumes playing with the putty again. “Doubtful. If anything, it’s probably a good thing it was you and not a normal customer.” Goro tries to make his voice light, but his current crankiness had inevitably seeped into the words.

“ _Oh? So, I’m not a ‘normal’ customer, huh_?” It seems Goro wasn’t the only one struggling with their emotions tonight as the worry was clearly evident in his tone. It was obvious that Akira had attempted to make a joke as he normally would at Goro’s expense, but his concern had won out in the end.

He rolls his eyes. “Of course not… Idiot.”

“ _Awwwww. Love you too, sweety._ ”

“… Shut up.” The blush that Akira always seems to bring out is back in full force as Goro sinks further into his mattress in embarrassment.

He hears Akira let out another laugh as they settle into a somewhat comfortable silence, content with the fact that there was another person with them on the other side of the phone. It doesn’t take long for Goro to put away his putty, his mind finally recovering enough that he didn’t need the distraction anymore and gets comfy on his bed. At some point Akira had started humming under his breath the song for his dance and it was enough for Goro to start to feel himself slowly dozing off.

The unconscious decision to call Akira had been nothing but a positive one for both of them. This conversation could have gone a million different ways, but Goro never would have guessed that the outcome would come out to be like this. Falling asleep over the phone with Akira humming a Lyn song under his breath. It wasn’t something that Goro had ever envisioned himself ever doing, but Akira had this odd ability to bring out the parts of himself that he didn’t know he even had whether he wanted him to or not.

He was just about to finally nod off when Akira suddenly stops his humming, causing Goro’s nice cozy feeling before you fall asleep to slowly dissipate from his mind.

“ _Hey, Goro. You still awake over there_?”

Letting out a sigh, Goro reopens his eyes and sends a glare towards his cell next to him on the pillow, hoping that Akira somehow felt it through the phone. “ _Now_ I am.”

“ _Sorry_ …” Akira at least had the decency to actually sound apologetic for disturbing him. “ _I just wanted to thank you for calling me. If you hadn’t, well, I probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep well tonight… Scratch that, I wasn’t going to be able to sleep at all_.”

A rush of guilt consumes Goro. He hadn’t thought of calling Akira at all after his boyfriend had witnessed him break down earlier, it was just a spur of the moment thing. The thought of Akira, waiting and worried in his room all night, unable to sleep because of him… It was a terrible image that Goro didn’t want to focus on. Granted, anyone would argue that he hasn’t exactly been in the best mind set since then, but Goro still felt an immense amount of guilt nonetheless.

“Ah, um. You’re welcome, I guess?” Goro replies oh so gracefully. He does hear another breathy laugh from Akira over the phone, so Goro was still going to still call it a win in his book.

Scrambling for something else to say, silence lingers in the air between them as Akira politely coughs and continues to hum to help alleviate some of the embarrassing atmosphere. It takes a couple of minutes before Goro manages to regroup his thoughts, a new idea flashing through his head. He grabs his phone and starts thumbing through his contacts.

“Hey, Akira.”

“ _Yeah?_ ”

“Naoto and the others are forcing me to stay home from work tomorrow and they’re trying to figure out a schedule to check up on me throughout the day…” He quickly types out a text and sends it out, shorty hearing a ping come from his common room.

“ _Yeah? Sounds like they care about you a lot. Marie almost ripped out my throat before I could explain what had happened_.” Another laugh from Akira, this one sounding more nervous than the last. “ _Got anyone with you right now?_ ”

“Naoto is staying over,” Goro mutters, only half paying attention to his conversation with Akira as several replies appear in his work chat. “Everyone is overreacting. They’re treating me like a helpless child.”

“ _Huh. I don’t see it like that at all. If anything, I think they just genuinely care about you and want to make sure you’re okay_.” A pause. “ _Their methods might be a little overboard, but… I don’t know. I would do the same in their place, I guess_.”

Reading several more replies, Goro nods and closes the chat. “That’s good to hear, actually.”

“ _Why’s that?_ ” Akira questions.

“If you’re free tomorrow, would you like to come over? If you’re here, the others won’t need to send a babysitter and I can get off my back.”

He fully expects Akira to jump on the offer, but when he is greeted with complete silence, Goro starts to fidget. Did he ask for too much?

“ _You want me to come over? Just… the two of us? Are you sure?_ ”

His mind catching up with the situation, Goro flushes and buries his face into his pillow. The sexual undertone to the question was there, but, for once, it seems only Goro was the one who had picked up on it. Over the phone, Akira sounded more nervous and hesitant than anything else, which was surprising to say the least. Goro was used to Akira finding any and every opportunity possible to send innuendos his way and had plenty of confidence to spare, but this new, self-conscious side of his had Goro curious to what had prompted it.

He nods into his pillow several times before realizing that _obviously_ Akira couldn’t see him and rushes to reply.

“Yeah!” His voice cracks and Goro clears it to try again. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Again, Akira defies his expectation when, instead of making fun of Goro’s voice crack, he ignores it (or misses it completely). “ _Are you sure I won’t… make it worse?_ ”

Make what worse? Goro almost asks, but snaps his mouth shut. Whatever had Akira acting so weird had something to do with this question. When it takes several moments for him to figure out what Akira was taking about, Goro mentally swears and sits up.

Feeling frustration from the entire situation rise up, Goro smacks it back down. He refused to take out his irritation on his boyfriend. It wasn’t Akira’s fault that he felt that way just like it wasn’t Goro’s fault that he had been triggered into an episode. It was that god damn fucker’s fault for strolling in like he owned the damn studio and demanding Goro to come back. Wasn’t going to _ever_ _fucking_ _happen_ , but that man’s appearance was something Goro would just have to put up with since it was impossible to ban him from getting anywhere near the studio.

Goro sighs. “No, Akira, you won’t make it worse. If anything,” he flushes, Goro’s eyes suddenly finding the wooden grooves in his door very interesting, “you’re probably the best person to make me feel better.”

“ _Wait. You said the best person? Wouldn’t Kujikawa-san, Shirogane-san, or Marie be better? I only seemed to make your situation worse today_ ,” Akira’s asks, his voice pitching up.

Akira had mentioned before that he would be too worried to sleep tonight, but Goro could tell that this entire thing had been eating Akira up inside since he had left the studio. Akira just seemed to ooze self-doubt in this moment. It was obvious that something traumatic was lurking behind his thoughts and feelings right now. The hopelessness to being unable to help someone that was in trouble and hurting. It sent a pang of sadness to go through Goro. A sadness that someone like Akira had been hurt by a painful experience as well.

“Is it so weird for me to want my boyfriend to take care of me?” Goro senses another protest from Akira and continues on before he could voice it. “I only acted that way because I didn’t recognize you. The reason why I _did_ recognize Rise and not you is because I’ve known Rise for years.”

“ _So… it’s okay that I come over tomorrow?_ ”

“Of course it is, Akira. I trust you.”

A pause before Goro hears a relieved laugh from the other end. “ _Thank you, Goro. I’m sorry you had to comfort me when you’re the one not feeling well._ ”

“I’m fine now, just exhausted.” Goro sinks back into his bed and glares at his still lit ceiling. “So, am I telling my co-workers that you’re coming over tomorrow or not?”

“ _I do have some morning classes, but it’s fine if I skip them._ ”

Goro cocks an eyebrow. “Didn’t you skip today’s classes as well?”

“ _I did, yeah. But I can just borrow the recording of the lectures from Hifumi since she records every class for study purposes._ ”

“Who’s Hifumi?” Goro fiddles with his blankets, not at all feeling slightly jealous over a girl he had never met that just happened to be Akira’s classmate and lets him borrow precious recordings of their classes together.

He wasn’t jealous. Not at all.

“ _She’s another friend from high school. We used to play shogi together and it was during one of those sessions that we figured out that we were going to the same college and with the same degree as well_.” He hears Akira shift on the other end. _“It’s really nice having a friend in the same degree so we can help each other in any classes we’ve had together since we both tend to miss classes a lot. She misses a lot of them because of her professional shogi matches and me because of my… job._ ”

“I see.” Goro feels his eye twitch.

Calm down, Goro. She’s obviously just a friend. A friend that Akira apparently plays shogi with in his free time and shares notes with when one of them misses class. Nothing More. Nothing less.

“ _So, yeah. It’s fine if I skip classes again tomorrow_.” Another breathy laugh. “ _But try not to make a habit out of this, Goro. I find it really hard to say no to you and I don’t want to fail out of school._ ”

Goro snorts. “As if I’d let you do that. One of us needs to have a degree.”

“ _Oh yeah. I forgot you mentioned that you didn’t ever go to college._ ”

“Yup. I started working at Starlight right out of high school.” Goro roams his eyes over to his closed doorway as he hears Naoto still rummaging around his common room. “And I don’t regret that decision. I’m happy with where I am right now.”

“Good. I’m glad,” he hears the smile in Akira’s voice and Goro feels himself smile in return.

Most people wouldn’t accept his lack of college degree and show concern for his wellbeing because of that fact, but Akira wasn’t like other people. He really did fully accept and support his love of dancing and career in the field. Goro was really glad that he had given Akira a chance even after everything that has happened to him. Is _still_ happening to him actually. Akira just had this strange knack of his to get through Goro’s defenses effortlessly and making it so easy and comforting to be around him.

The warm and fuzzy atmosphere is back as Akira resumes humming again. Goro feels his eyes growing heavy and a large yawn forces its way out.

“ _We should call it a night so you can finally get some sleep_ ,” Akira suggests, his voice soft and content. “ _I’ll see you tomorrow morning._ ”

Goro hums a confirmation. “See you tomorrow,” he mutters and forces himself to send one last text message before closing his eyes again. He hears the now familiar ping come from his common room and cuddles further into his blankets.

“ _Goodnight Goro. Sleep well._ ”

“G’night…” Goro mumbles in reply, his words slurring from drowsiness.

He hears the phone call end and smiles into his pillow. Just as Goro was about to fully let the sleepy haze overtake him, he hears his bedroom door slowly creak open and his lights shutting off before closing once more. He was sure Naoto had rolled their eyes at his request, Goro’s light switch literal feet away, but had shut them off nonetheless without protest. Today was probably the only day he could get away with being selfish in Naoto’s presence and he was going to take full advantage of that fact.

With that last thought, Goro falls into the deep haze of sleep; his mind finally free of both dreams and nightmares for the first time in years.

*~*

Waking up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee was a confusing but welcoming wake up call. Naoto had probably brewed some in preparation for their normal shift this morning and it brought warm memories of Akira’s own brew to mind. He hoped that Akira would bring some of his morning coffee when he eventually came by.

Searching for his phone, Goro eventually finds it wedged between his headboard and mattress. Grabbing it to check the time and finding it was, unfortunately, very dead. It seems like he had forgotten to plug it into a charger before falling asleep last night and only the blinking icon to notify him of this fact greeted him on the screen.

Finding his charger and plugging in his phone, Goro gets up from his comfy and warm bed to take a look outside his window. With how the sun was positioned it had to be around eight or nine in the morning; a full two to three hours later than when he would normally get up for work.

Exiting his bedroom, still in his sleep wear and his bed head on full display, Goro heads for his kitchen. The bedding Naoto had used last night was already neatly piled on his couch, but there was still no sign of his guest anywhere in his common room. They must be eating at his kitchen table before heading off to the studio. Hopefully they had saved him some coffee to sip on until he was awake enough to fix himself some breakfast since his exhaustion riddled mind could barely function this morning.

“Good morning, Goro!”

Pausing in the doorway of his kitchen, Goro eyes search for the sudden voice and locks onto, not Naoto, but Akira making breakfast at his stove.

“Wha-“

“Sorry, should I not have?” He must have been making a face because Akira’s cheery atmosphere morphs into one of nerves and sheepishness. “I woke up way too early this morning and couldn’t fall back asleep. I texted Naoto around six if I could come over early and they agreed. I’ve been here for about an hour now.”

“It’s… fine. I just wasn’t expecting to see you quite so soon.” He walks stiffly over to one of the two chairs at his kitchen table and slumps into his seat.

Akira sends him a warm smile and grabs the freshly brewed coffee pot next to him on the counter. “Would you like some coffee? It won’t be as good as LeBlanc’s since I don’t have the right brewing equipment here, but the beans themselves are leagues better than that instant crap in your cabinets.”

Rolling his eyes, Goro juts out his hand and makes a grabbing motion. “Yes please.”

Akira grabs one of this few coffee mugs and pours him some of the pipping hot liquid. He sets it on the table in front of Goro and heads back over to the stove to continue cooking. Goro tentatively grabs the mug and brings it to his mouth to take a sip. Akira was right that it wasn’t as good as a fresh brew from LeBlanc, but it was so much better than what he had currently in his apartment.

Now that the initial surprise of Akira being in his apartment instead of Naoto has finally subsided, Goro could relax back into his pleasant and sleepy mood. It’s been a while since he had last slept in and the extra hours were actually causing him to feel more sleepy than awake. It was a nice feeling, but not one he would like to make a habit of.

“What would you like in your pancakes?” Akira suddenly asks.

Pancakes? Did Akira remember that they were his favorite?

Opening eyes that Goro hadn’t realized he had closed; he finds his boyfriend and notices the large bowl of white pancake batter next to the stove. Then, next to the bowl, Goro has to chuckle at the amount of pancake toppings that Akira has brought over.

“Did you buy the entire grocery store?”

Blueberries, bananas, cinnamon, whipped cream, chocolate chips, peanut butter, chocolate syrup. Every and any topping you could think of for pancakes littered the top of his counters in haphazard piles.

“Well,” Akira twists his hair in embarrassment. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I just, kinda, bought everything I could think of?”

Roaming his eyes over the food, Goro lets out a small giggle. “Everything but the maple syrup, I see.”

“What?!” Akira jumps in place and starts pushing around the toppings in his pursuit for the maple syrup. A few moments later an exasperated Akira lets out a groan when his search for the maple syrup is ultimately proven futile. “How could I forget the maple syrup? Of all things?”

Rolling his eyes, Goro gets up from the table and places a small kiss onto Akira’s lips. “Then it’s a good thing I have some already.”

He reaches up, opening the cabinet above their heads, and grabs his half-filled bottle of maple syrup to place with the rest of the toppings on the counter. Goro notices a small blush forming on Akira’s cheeks and steals another kiss before heading back to his place at the table.

“I’ll take mine with some bananas and chocolate chips in it.”

Akira smiles and turns back to the stove to get back to work. “How many?”

Goro contemplates the question for a moment, mulling it over in his mind and takes a slow sip of his coffee.

“Six should be fine.”

Akira pauses, his spatula inches away from a half-finished pancake to flip it, and slowly turns again to face his boyfriend. “Come on, Goro. Really? _Six of them_?” Akira scolds, turning back around to finally flip the waiting pancake. “I’m not skimping out on the batter here. I fully intend to make these babies plate-sized.”

Goro shoots him a prideful look. “Exactly. Give me six of them.”

He could practically feel the eye roll from here. “If you say so.”

With Akira focusing on making their breakfast, Goro sinks into his chair and watches his reflection mirrored off of his now lukewarm coffee. This whole situation seemed so… domestic. And felt so… right. It was like Akira had always been here, with Goro, teasing each other over how much food they should or should not be consuming for breakfast. Or just simply waking up to find Akira in his apartment, waiting for him to get up with a fresh cup of coffee in hand.

It made him want Akira to stay.

A feeling of pure warm and love for his boyfriend hits Goro hard. Normally it would take him months just to open up to someone, let alone feel this comfortable and relaxed with them alone in his apartment. The fact that he had been completely vulnerable for an entire hour while he slept in his bedroom after Akira had arrived and it didn’t send pure terror through him from that fact, showed just how much his boyfriend had wormed his way into his heart.

Could he call this love? It was too soon and too new a feeling for Goro to know.

Gently pulling Goro out of his quiet thoughts, a plate of delicious smelling pancakes is placed in front of him. His eyes find Akira’s and his boyfriend gives him a bright smile in return.

“Refill?” Akira asks, lifting the pot of coffee.

Noticing his mug oddly empty, Goro nods in reply. Akira fills it to the top and brings it back over to the coffee maker. During his musings, Akira had, at some point, brought all of the toppings from the counter to the middle of the table. Not wasting any time, Goro loads up his pancakes with various overly sugary toppings and chows down. Akira soon joins him at the table with his own plate of pancakes and digs in as well after drowning them in maple syrup.

They don’t speak again until all the pancakes have disappeared into their empty stomachs; Goro making sure to give Akira a shit-eating grin when he finishes his own plate.

“See? And you doubted my pancake eating abilities,” Goro taunts, pointing his fork at Akira.

“I’m so sorry to have ever doubted you,” Akira chuckles, resting his chin on his hand. “I’ll be sure never to make that mistake again.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Akira gets up from his seat and places a small, gentle kiss to Goro’s forehead. “Are you still hungry or can I get to work on the dishes?”

“No, I’m good. Let me help,” Goro moves to get up as well, but Akira gently coaxes him back down.

“Nope, not gonna let ya,” he places another kiss to Goro’s forehead and grabs their dishes.” Today is your day to relax and recover.”

“But-“

“But nothing.” Akira’s tone of voice indicated that there was no leeway in this matter.

When Akira shoots him a bright smile, Goro pouts in his seat. He spends the next few minutes watching his boyfriend make quick work of cleaning up his kitchen back to its pristine appearance until he couldn’t handle it anymore and gets up.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Goro mumbles out when he notices Akira coming over to stop him again.

“Oh, okay.” Akira stops in his tracks and chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “You go do that.” Akira’s eyes find the top of Goro’s head. “It is too bad that I won’t be able to see any more of that cute bedhead of yours, but sacrifices need to be made, I guess.”

At the mention of his bedhead, Goro shoots his hands up to his hair, immediately attempting to calm down the frizzy strands sticking everywhere. He could already feel a raging blush taking over his face when his hair doesn’t cooperate, Akira’s good-natured laugh tickling his ears upon seeing it. Sudden dread fills his stomach when Goro looks down and sees that he was still in his sleepwear. When the blush reaches his ears, Goro bolts out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom, Akira’s laugh following him through his apartment.

*~*

Freshly showered and in his most comfortable clothing, Goro exits his bedroom for the second time that day to find Akira had already made himself cozy on his couch, wrapped in one of the blankets Naoto had borrowed last night. Akira’s eyes met his and he opens the fuzzy blanket for Goro to crawl into. Taking up the offer, Goro plops down on the couch for Akira to rewrap the warm blanket around them. His boyfriend’s arm curls around his shoulders to draw him in closer with Goro only tensing for a split second before melting into the embrace and bringing his legs up onto the couch to fully lean his full weight on Akira’s chest.

“This okay?” Akira whispers into his ear, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into Goro’s arm.

“It’s perfect,” Goro sleepily mumbles into his chest. He had gotten more than his usual amount of sleep last night, but it still must not have been enough.

“Time for a nap?” Akira offers, kissing the top of his head.

“No,” Goro sighs, curling up further into his warm boyfriend. “Not yet.”

He didn’t want to spend the majority of his very rare day off with Akira sleeping. Forcing his eyes back open, Goro looks up to find a very amused Akira watching him through half-lidded eyes.

“You’re so adorable, Goro.”

Flushing under the praise, Goro buries his face into the crook of Akira’s arm to hide the blush from him.

“Shut up.” He was way too sleepy for this shit.

“But it’s true!” Akira says, barking out a laugh. “Hey, come on now. There’s no need to hide!”

Akira tries to jostle him enough that Goro reveals his face again. However, Goro absolutely refuses to let Akira see his redden face and clings to the thin fabric of his boyfriend’s shirt in an attempt to keep his face covered.

“ _Goro_ ,” Akira whines, moving his other arm around to encompass his entire body around his boyfriend.

Next thing that Goro knows, he feels the tips of Akira’s fingers finding his now very exposed stomach. Before he could stop him, Akira starts his counter-tickle attack. Goro tried to stop it, he really did, but his stomach was an incredibly weak spot of his when it came to tickles, a fact that his mother used to use to her advantage when he was younger, and he lets go of Akira’s shirt as body racking giggles encase his entire being.

“Akira!” Goro protests between giggles. “St-stop!”

“Nope!”

Trying to get away from the relentless tickle attack, Goro scoots away from his boyfriend, but accidently falls back on the couch instead. When his back hits the soft cushions, Akira chases him down, laying over top of him to keep Goro in place as he continues his assault on his stomach.

“Ready to give up?”

Tears running down his face, Goro weakly tries to push Akira away. “Yes!”

As requested, Akira stops his relentless assault of his stomach and pushes himself up to look over his boyfriend. Cheeks still slightly flushed, stomach heaving in an attempt to catch his breath, and tears in his eyes, Akira couldn’t look away. He leans back down, finding Goro’s questioning gaze, and places a single kiss onto Goro’s lips.

Akira gives him a sheepish look after the short kiss and pulls back to give his boyfriend some space. Refusing to let it end there, Goro follows after his retreating boyfriend, and relocks their lips together again when he finds him. When that kiss ended, Goro started another. Then another and another. Akira softly cradles his face with his hands, sucking at his lower lip and Goro obliges the silent request by opening his mouth for Akira’s tongue to enter. Akira takes the opportunity to map out the inside of his mouth and finds Goro’s tongue in a battle for dominance.

A few moments later, Goro needs to break away for some much needed air and, reluctantly, gives up the fight to his boyfriend. He turns his head away from the kiss as Akira takes the opportunity to suck at a patch of skin on his neck, undoubtably leaving a darkened hickey for the world to see.

Goro clutches at Akira’s back as his boyfriend leaves another hickey right next to the first one and groans into his ear. He feels Akira shudder against him and grins in triumph at the slight victory. His boyfriend leans back up and Goro follows him until they’re both facing each other in a seated position on the couch.

“As much as I would love to continue, I think we should stop before things get a little too heated,” Akira suggests, resuming his earlier position before the impromptu make out session and assault of tickles. He lifts his arm up and offers for Goro to re-slot himself back in the crook of his arm.

Goro takes up the offer, leaning against Akira’s chest as his boyfriend wraps an arm around his shoulder once more. Akira uses his other arm to reposition the blanket back over top of them and snuggles into a more comfortable position.

“This good?” Akira asks again, pecking his lips with a quick kiss.

“Very good,” Goro confirms once more. He then grabs his phone, opening his Metflix app and shows it to Akira. “Want to watch a cheesy movie?”

Akira sends him a fond smile. “Absolutely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had hoped to get this chapter out before the start of the new year, but that didn't quite happen after inspiration struck me hard and I couldn't stop writing unplanned stuff instead of story meant for this chapter. Oh well. hoped you liked it!  
> I've decided that I'll be writing a one-shot epilogue after the series concludes, but haven't decided whether or not to make it explicit. What do you guys think? Pop my metaphorical cherry of writing a sex scene or keep this series M rated only?  
> Happy New Years everyone! You did it! <3


	12. May 24th

“Okay, let’s wrap it up for the day. Good work everyone,” Goro announces, clapping his hands to get the groups attention.

“Thank God!” Ryuji groans, crumbling to the ground of the dance studio. “I thought dancing as a group would be less work, not more!”

“How are you so tired, Ryuji? Aren’t you used to exercising?” Ann comments, thanking Haru as she hands her a clean towel and a water bottle.

“Well, yeah, but dancing is, like, totally different than runnin’ and liften’! I’m sore in places that I didn’t even know _could_ be sore!” Ryuji complains.

He tries reaching out for his bag from his spot on the ground but gives up when it doesn’t magically fly across the room towards him. After a couple moments of pathetic hand waving, Yusuke takes pity on him and drags the overstuffed workout bag towards the groaning blonde as Ann rolls her eyes at Ryuji’s antics.

“Oh, come on! You’re just being dramatic, Ryuji. Dancing isn’t that bad,” Ann replies. “Besides you should be better used to it by now; it’s been almost an entire month since we started practicing.”

“Yeah! But! It still hard as shit to do!”

Haru giggles. “Where did all that bravado go, Ryuji? I thought you were really excited to learn breakdancing.”

“Yeah, I was…” Ryuji blushes and scratches the back of his head. “Until I figured out how f’ing difficult it would be.”

Haru giggles again while Ann and Makoto let out exasperated sighs.

“Okay, Ryuji, enough of that,” Makoto scolds. She walks over to the still prone blonde on the floor and lifts Ryuji up by the collar to get him back on his feet and completely ignoring his protest at being manhandled. When he relents and finally stands back up, Makoto lets him go and brushes off her clothes and turns to the rest of the group. “Let’s pack up and get going soon. We shouldn’t take up more of Akechi’s time than we need to. I sure he has more work to do tonight.”

“I don’t mind,” Goro quickly replies. “I don’t have any other clients today and just need to clean up before going home. Please stay as long as you need to since I overworked you guys more than I should have today.”

“Oh?” Akira makes his way over to his boyfriend by the mini fridge and laces their hands together. “Do you have any plans for dinner?”

In the weeks since Akira had visited his apartment, they had only, unfortunately, been ale to hang out for more than a couple of hours at a time. Busy between both their work schedules and Akira’s classes, they’ve only managed to snag a couple small dates here and there, but, to him, it never seemed to be enough. The time Goro spent apart from Akira always seemed to go too slow while the moments together seemed to end too quickly. Both of them desperately wanted to hang out more together, just the two of them, but life lately seemed to get in the way every time they tried.

Regardless of the minimal time together, the past several weeks with Akira have been some of the happiest Goro has felt since before his mother had died. It felt like a dream, being this happy. So much so that sometimes Goro feared waking up in the morning and finding that it had been nothing more than a good dream. That none of it had been real and this happiness was just a product of his fucked-up mind.

Pushing away the depressing thoughts, Goro squeezes the warm hand encased in his and turns to give his boyfriend a bright smile. “I have not decided yet. What did you have in mind?”

“Ramen!”

“Cake!”

“Nostalgia steak!”

“Meow!”

“Some hotpot in this weather would be deeply satisfying.”

“How does a nice French restaurant sound?”

Goro hears Akira give a deep sigh and sends him an apologetic look. “Sorry, looks like it’ll be a group dinner date today.”

“I guess it can’t be helped,” Goro shrugs.

Internally he’s kind of disappointed that he won’t be able to spend one on one time with his boyfriend over dinner tonight. However, now that he thinks about it, it _has_ been a while since Goro has hung out with the rest of the group, so he wasn’t _too_ sad over this new development. Yeah… Only slightly disappointed.

As the group descends into a debate over which place would be best to eat at for dinner tonight, Makoto sends a sympathetic look their way and steps forward to round up the hungry group.

“Okay everyone! Hurry up and get cleaning or you won’t be getting any dinner!”

After a round of “Yes, Ma’am’s” and taking the threat to heart, the group sans Akira and Goro get to work on cleaning up the studio. With such a large group it doesn’t take too long to finish up the end of day cleaning and restocking. Although, it probably would have taken a lot _less_ time if Yusuke hadn’t started arranging the clean towels into an overly elaborate tower on the shelves.

With the studio finally cleaned up and Morgana safely tucked away in Akira’s backpack, Goro locks up his studio room and waves Marie goodnight. Back on the streets of Shibuya, the group reconvenes on deciding a place to eat for the night.

“I say ramen! It’s the best thing to eat after a good workout! Right, bud?” Ryuji presses, slinging his arm around Akira’s shoulders.

“I think you’re the only one who feels that way,” Ann scoffs. “We should go somewhere with cake! You know, to make sure that we keep our blood sugar up?”

“Meow murr!” Goro hears as Morgana sticks his head out of Akira’s backpack and balances on his shoulder. “Nya mew.”

“That’s two votes for cake and only one for ramen!” Ann declares, smirking in triumph towards Ryuji.

“Well, yeah! That stupid cat always agrees with you!” Ryuji argues back as Morgana screeches at his remark.

Goro eyes the cat in open suspicion. He hasn’t spent much time in Morgana’s presence, but every time he did the cat always seemed to not only know what was being said around him but responding in kind as well. Combined with the fact that everyone but him seemed to understand what the feline was saying caused Goro to almost certainly believe that Morgana couldn’t be just a normal cat. He had no concrete evidence, but after all the stories he’s heard from his coworkers about creatures beyond human understanding, Goro couldn’t be too sure that Morgana was just an average cat.

Goro, wisely, chooses to stay quiet but doesn’t miss the quick glances towards him from both his boyfriend and Makoto as Ryuji, Ann, and Morgana (?) banter back and forth.

“Who’s turn is it pick?” Haru offers after the discussion goes nowhere.

Yusuke rubs his chin. “I believe it’s Akira’s turn.”

Makoto nods and eight pairs of eyes turn towards the curly haired boy for confirmation.

In response, Akira shakes his head and smirks. “Nope, not my turn.”

“I’m was certain is wa-“

Akira cuts him off and instead turns and points towards his boyfriend. “It’s actually Goro’s turn. He hasn’t ever picked where we eat for dinner, so I think it’s only fair that it’s his turn.”

Not prepared to be the center of attention, Goro freezes under their combined eager stares. Scrambling to think of something, Goro’s eyes catch an advertisement for barbecue.

“How about going for some yakiniku?” Goro offers, his words tumbling over each other in a rush to get them out.

Dead silence. Until…

“Hell yeah!”

“That’s sounds amazing!”

“I’m totally gonna stuff my face!”

“Meow!”

“I’m disappointed we won’t be going for hotpot, but yakiniku sounds good as well.”

“What a lovely idea, Akechi.”

Ryuji heads over and gives him an affectionate smack to the back. Keeping his face straight because _ow_ Ryuji hit hard, Goro allows him to sling an arm around his shoulder.

“Nice thinking dude. I could totally go for some beer right now too after that work out you gave us today. If the girls had gotten their way, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to.” Ryuji pulls him in close with a bright smile.

Grimacing, Goro tries desperately to hide his discomfort from showing on his face. Touch from people other than his coworkers and Akira was something Goro was still sensitive about and the overly aggressive way that Ryuji gave it made his insides crawl with unease. The blonde very clearly had no ill intent in his actions, but old scars still had, very obviously, yet to heal after his most recent episode two weeks back.

As if sensing his growing discomfort, Akira sneaks his arm around Goro’s waist and pulls him in close. Now away from Ryuji’s side hug, Goro feels himself melt into Akira’s embrace. His back flushes against his boyfriend’s chest and Goro feels his face heat back up at how easily he allowed himself to be manhandled like that. He wasn’t mad, just embarrassed… especially since Akira seemed to have a bad habit of flirting with him in front of others. This time he had done it to save him some discomfort, so it wasn’t _unwelcomed_ …

Okay, it was never unwelcomed, but still! He needed to keep some of his pride intact...

An annoyed grumble from Akira’s other side rips Goro from his inner monologue. Striking (and glaring) blue eyes from Akira’s shoulder had him reeling slightly as another complaining meow is sent his boyfriend’s way.

“Let the love birds flirt a little, Mona! ‘kira deserves it after trying really hard not to stare _too_ much at Akechi’s ass during practice today,” Futaba snickers, making little grabbing motions with her hands. “If you’re uncomfortable I, Alibaba herself, will carry you to the restaurant in Akira’s stead!”

At the mention of his ass, Goro turns his head Akira’s way and cocks an eyebrow.

Looking anywhere but directly at Goro, it’s Akira’s turn to flush a nice shade of red. Leaning in close, Akira whispers in his ear voice loud enough that only the two of them would be able hear. “And what a nice ass it is.”

As expected, Goro blushes under the sudden praise. Shoving his boyfriend away, Goro feels the heat at the tips of his ears as Akira’s ringing laughter echoes around him. The flirting was never unwelcomed but infuriating all the same.

Seeing the pout and snickering, Akira pulls him back in with both arms.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” Glancing around at the group and, seeing that no one paying attention to them, Akira sneaks a quick kiss to his cheek. “You can always tell me if I’m being too much, okay? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“No!” His sudden shout redraws the group’s attention and Goro gulps under their combined gaze. “I… I don’t mind. The flirting, that is…” Goro whispers back so the group doesn’t hear him this time.

“Okay,” Akira also whispers. They stare at each other for a brief moment before Akira loosens his hold on Goro into a more laid-back position. With only his left arm hanging loosely around Goro’s waist Akira readdresses his confused group of friends. “Have we found a good yakiniku place to eat at yet?”

“Mako-chan and I just finished up getting reservations for one a few streets over. It’s a little more expensive than normal, but if we all want to eat together it was the only one who had their largest table still open,” Haru answers with Makoto nodding in confirmation.

“It’s a little bit of a walk, but it’s faster than taking the train.”

“Then let’s GO! I’m starving over here!” Ryuji shouts, startling a few passersby.

Ann smacks him upside the head. “Quiet down, you’re making a scene!”

“Ow! Hey! Like you’re any better!”

Before the two could go back to bickering, Makoto clears her throat in warning. Ann and Ryuji immediately quiet down and send apologies her way.

“Should we start heading out?” Akira suggests.

“Wait!” Futaba protests, rushing over to Akira’s side. “I wanna carry Mona!”

With everyone finally settled and Morgana’s bag slung safely over Futaba’s shoulders, the group finally head out to the restaurant. Along the way the group diverges into groups of two or three people. Goro and Akira make up the back most group, content with watching the others converse in their separate conversations and catching small snippets here and there.

“It’s so weird,” Goro whispers before he realizes he had even opened his mouth.

“What is?”

Shit… Akira had heard him.

Goro fidgets slightly. There was no point in not answering since, knowing Akira, he probably wouldn’t let it go.

“It’s weird just how quickly they,” he gestures ahead, “accepted me so quickly into the group. They treat me like… I’ve always been here.”

Akira gives him a fond smile. “And? Is that a bad thing?”

He shakes his head. Of _course_ it wasn’t a bad thing but… “No… Just not something I’m used to is all. It’s… actually really nice.”

“Good,” Akira chuckles. “Because I don’t think I could do anything about it even if I wanted to.” Goro gives him an affectionate shove as Akira’s chuckles turn into full blown laughter at the action. Akira laces their hands together, his head leaning forward to whisper into Goro’s ear. “There’s no need to be so shy, Goro- _sensei_.” He shudders at Akira’s deeper tone and his boyfriend gives him a suggestive smirk when he sees it. “Oh? Did you like that Goro? Should I call you that more often? Like when we’re in-”

“We’re here!” Haru’s sweet voice breaks through and Goro feels the need to jump back from Akira even though they weren’t doing anything that would be deemed inappropriate in public. Still, Goro snatches his hand back in embarrassment and moves over to the gathering group by the restaurant’s entrance. Hopefully, the others were too busy in their own worlds to pay attention to what he and Akira were doing.

Joining the group, Goro gets his wish when it seems everyone is focused on the menu posted in the window of the yakiniku restaurant.

“Ohhhh. It smells so good!” Ryuji says, practically drooling.

“Then let’s head inside. We’re disturbing the business by crowding the entrance like this,” Makoto suggests, a chorus of agreements sent her way.

When inside, Haru informs the staff of their reservation and they’re brought to the back left corner of the restaurant. The table had more than enough room for everyone to sit at comfortably with grills placed strategically so that only two people had to share one of them.

Goro wasn’t too picky in his choice of seating, unlike the others it seemed. After much debate Goro was placed in the back left corner with Akira to his right, Ryuji next to him, and Yusuke taking up the other end. Across from Goro was Haru, Makoto to her left, then Ann, and Futaba. The choice of arrangement was better than he had hoped for with the two people Goro was most familiar with sitting closest to him. He knew the others had purposely sat him and Akira together, but having Haru also there was a pleasant surprise.

As expected, the group wastes no time in ordering plate after plate of meat. Soon the delicious smells of juicy grade A meat sizzling on overheated grills fills the air. Unlike the others, Goro isn’t in any hurry to chow down on the meat, instead choosing to relax into the comfortable atmosphere of being surrounded by good friends and good food.

However, Akira being Akira, would sneakily place his better pieces of cooked meat onto Goro’s plate for him to eat. When placing the food on Goro’s plate only seemed to slightly increase his boyfriend’s rate of consumption, Akira soon switches up his tactics to directly feeding it to him instead. This action, of course, only caused the group to further tease them throughout the meal, but it was worth it to see the look of satisfaction on Akira’s face every time Goro accepted a piece of barbequed beef.

When stomachs are full and content, everyone orders their choice of after dinner drink (Futaba ordering juice) to settle down and hang out before heading back home for the night. The establishment is thankfully slow for the night, with their group being the only ones in the establishment, so there were no complaints of them staying longer than welcome.

“So, Akechi,” Ann says locking eyes with him from across the table. “How would you say we’re all doing in our dancing routines?”

Goro rubs his chin in thought, processing the question. “Well, I can say with complete confidence, that all of you have come a long way from where you started out. Some of you could definitely improve a lot more with more practice, but I would also say that none of you would be called _bad_ at dancing as long as you stick with the dance style I’m teaching you.”

“Soooooo, would you say we’re ready for the gala?” Ann asks, twirling one of her pigtails.

“I would say so, yes.”

“Nice! Then we should head into the palace tomorrow, ya?”

“Ryuji!” Ann squeals sending a hard kick to the other blonde’s shin under the table. She plasters on an overly big and obviously fake smile Goro’s way. “Ahaha, just ignore him Akechi,” Ann hastily says, her voice just as wobbly as her smile and twirling a pigtail.

Hearing Ann’s voice wavering from the barely concealed lie had Goro eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Palace?”

Whatever this ‘palace’ thing was had to be important as the former comfortable atmosphere disappears completely at this point, leaving behind an electric charged sense of nervousness in its wake. No one seemed to want to be the one to answer the simple question.

“Well, you see, what Ryuji meant by palace was-“

“Goro.” Cutting Ann off, Akira drags his attention away from the nervous blonde. Intertwining their hands together once more, Akira takes a deep breath. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you about, but could you drop this? For now? I promise to explain everything to you, but right now is not the time.” Another deep breath, their eyes finding each other’s. “Is that okay?”

Searching his boyfriend’s face, Goro looks for everything and anything that could prove Akira’s words otherwise. Not finding anything, Goro relents and lets out his own deep sigh as he relaxed back into his seat.

“Fine.”

“Thanks honey.” Akira gives him a quick peck to the cheek and squeezes their combined hands.

Ann then takes this moment to send another hard kick Ryuji’s way and the group goes back to their separate conversations. It wasn’t hard to tell that everyone was still very clearly tense and reeling from the earlier confrontation, but after a couple more drinks the conversation is almost forgotten. Almost forgotten being the key phrase if the quick looks between Makoto and Akira towards Goro were anything to go by.

‘Akira’ and ‘big secret’ weren’t things that Goro had ever thought would be in the same sentence. Akira wasn’t the type of person to hide anything from those he cared about and Goro thought he was pretty transparent about a lot of things.

Clearly, he had been wrong.

Wincing, Goro shakes his head to push away those thoughts and ignores the concerned look Akira gives him at the motion. He really shouldn’t think like that. Goro had secrets that he hasn’t told Akira about yet. _Especially_ since one of those secrets was about why he had broken down two weeks ago for fucks sake! Akira didn’t demand that he tell him why then and Goro shouldn’t ask the same of him now.

“Goro? Are you okay?”

He flinches as Akira’s hand finds his face and cups it. Seeing the reaction to his touch, Akira immediately withdraws both his hand on his cheek and the one intertwining their fingers together.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t- “, A pained look enters Akira’s face. He clears his throat and scoots his chair back to stand up. “I’m going to head to the bathroom.”

Goro scrambles to get up. “I’ll come too.”

Goro knew that Akira had used the bathroom as an excuse to excuse himself from the tense situation so they could both calm down, but Goro couldn’t let things end there. They had to talk this out and the privacy that the bathroom provided would be the perfect place to do so.

He sees the surprise and hesitation in Akira’s form as look away the curly-haired boy looks away. “Okay…”

They head to the restroom in uncomfortable silence. Upon entering, Akira heads to the sink while Goro instead chooses to lean against the bathroom door and waits for his boyfriend to finish washing his face. When he sees Akira pat down his pants and not finding the desired object, Goro offers him his own handkerchief to dry off.

Akira accepts the cloth, looking at Goro’s hand instead of his face. “Thank you.” Akira’s voice is hair’s breadth above a whisper and Goro loathed to hear it. “I’m sorry. I should have known that you would- “

“I’m not mad.”

This time Akira does look at him. “Huh?”

“I said, I’m not mad.” Goro rubs the back of his head. “If anything, I should be sorry for acting like that. Of course you would have secrets of your own and it’s unfair of me to be mad at you for not disclosing them. _Especially_ since there are plenty of things that I have not told you about yet either.”

“Yeah, but- “

“But nothing.” Goro gets up from leaning against the door and places a hand on his hip. “Unless you’re some kind of murderer or have done something truly heinous, which I _very highly_ doubt you have, you’re allowed to have things that you don’t want others to know about; secrets that we regret or are unable to tell other people about. Not telling these things to those closest to you doesn’t make you any less of a friend or partner to them.” Goro pauses, looking downward. “And I’m no exception to keeping secrets either.”

Akira blinks up at him, mulling over his words. “So?”

“So, what I’m trying to say is, if you don’t want to tell me you don’t have to,” Goro whispers, his voice soft. He desperately wants Akira to tell him what all this secrecy was about with his friends, but if Akira didn’t want to tell him then he shouldn’t feel obligated to do so. Everyone has things that they can’t tell others about.

“Goro…”

Hearing movement, Goro looks up to find Akira getting up from his position over the sink and opening his arms up wide. Seeing the invitation, Goro takes two steps forward and buries his face against Akira’s shoulder. He feels Akira’s arms wrap around him in a tight embrace, his hold strong and warm.

“Are we okay?” Akira asks, his voice holding all the fondness in the world.

Goro throat tightens and he further presses his face into Akira’s shoulder. He nods and grasps at Akira’s back.

They stay in that position for a while, embracing each other in the restroom of a yakiniku restaurant while their friends drank and conversed. Neither one of them willing nor wanting to move away from the other.

After what feels like an eternity, Goro was the one to finally relent and pulls away. He’s still locked in Akira’s embrace, but his face was no longer trying to bury into Akira’s shoulder.

“We should head back to the others before they get worried.”

“I don’t know. I kinda like it in here,” Akira smirks. His usual bravado severely lacking from his teasing this time around.

Rolling his eyes, Goro takes a chance and leans forward to lock his lips with Akira’s. He feels Akira’s stiffen in surprise from the kiss. Clearly, he had overstepped, so Goro attempts to pull away, but Akira doesn’t give him the chance. Goro feels Akira’s hands move up from his lower back and into his hair as Akira pulls him into a deeper kiss.

The make-out session quickly turns into a battle of tongues as Akira demands permission into Goro’s mouth. Goro obliges and opens up, not to let Akira in, but to fight him for dominance. It infuriated him to no end that Akira had more experience than him in the kissing department; a fact that Akira fully utilizes to his full advantage during their make-out sessions. But Goro was determined not to allow Akira to win this time around.

Sensing a challenge, Akira tilts his head to further deepen the kiss as their tongues meet in the middle. The lingering flavor of beef and alcohol is still heavy in Akira’s mouth as Goro is sure he tastes the same to Akira as a sudden moan from his boyfriend causes him to shudder.

Akira, seeing this as an opportunity, shoves his tongue into Goro’s mouth. As the probing tongue finds his way further in and, unable to reestablish his defenses, Goro finally relents to the battle, sealing Akira’s victory once more. Peeved that Akira would use such an underhanded tactic to win, Goro doesn’t notice until it’s too late that Akira has been pushing him back towards the bathroom door. When Goro feels his back hit the door, Akira slots a leg in between Goro’s and removes his mouth to instead suck a mark onto Goro’s neck.

“ _Akira_ ,” Goro groans, clutching at Akira’s back as he feels his boyfriend smirk into his neck upon hearing the moan. Removing his mouth from his neck, Akira moves Goro’s shirt down with his teeth to suck another mark below the first.

“Do you like it when I give you hickeys, Goro- _sensei_?” Akira’s voice is deep and sensual as he whispers the question into Goro’s ear.

It was getting too hot too fast. Goro mind was a mess; unable to think of anything other than how good Akira’s hot breath felt on the shell of his ear and the wandering fingers lifting Goro’s shirt to fully explore his chest. Goro’s pants are starting to feel uncomfortably too tight as he lets out another moan.

“Akira, I- “

“Hey, guys. Are you two okay in there? You’ve been in the bathroom for quite a while now.”

At the sudden appearance of Ann’s voice, Goro jerks his head back and away from Akira’s mapping mouth. The back of his head slams against the bathroom door and Goro hears Ann’s brief squeak of surprise from the other side of the door from the noise.

“What was that!? Are you okay!?”

“We’re okay Ann,” Akira replies, pulling away and rubbing a soothing hand on the swelling bump on Goro’s head. “Give us a sec. We’ll be right out.”

A momentary pause from the blonde causes the two men to hold their breaths, nervous that Ann wouldn’t heed their words and walk in to check on them. After what felt like an eternity, Ann’s hesitant voice reaches them once more.

“Well… If you say so.”

As Ann’s retreating footsteps fade from their hearing, Goro and Akira let out duo sighs. Catching each other’s eyes, the two break out into brief relieved laughter at the close call.

“That was close. It was a good thing Ann was the one who came to check up on us. Ryuji and Yusuke would have just walked in.” Akira says, his voice still rumbling with laughter. “Are you actually okay though? That sounded like it hurt.”

Reaching up, Goro feels for the swelling bump at the back of his head and winces. “Yeah, I should be fine.” It wasn’t as bad as some of the other smacks to the head during his earlier years of dancing, but Goro could tell the spot would be sore for a couple of days. “But we really should head out before the others get even more suspicious than they already are.”

“I agree, but I think we should, ah, situate ourselves first.” Akira turns sheepish, his steel gray eyes tracking Goro up and down. “I _may_ have gone a little, um, overboard…”

Heeding Akira’s word, Goro makes his way over to the mirror stationed above the sinks and sees exactly what Akira means. Other than the very obvious bulge in his pants, Goro’s shirt had been ruffled and creased from Akira’s mapping fingers with two very purple hickeys peeking out over his shirt on his collarbone. His lips were red and bruised and his usually well-kept hair had strands sticking out in every direction.

Or, in other words, Goro looked absolutely _wrecked_.

If Goro had walked out of the bathroom right this moment it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what he and Akira had been doing in there.

Through the mirror, he sees Akira shrug off his jacket and wrap it around Goro’s shoulders. “It has a high collar, so it should hide the hickeys and your wrinkled shirt,” Akira explains as Goro slips his arms through the sleeves. His boyfriend zips it up all the way to his chin and smooths down the fabric so it laid down nicely over Goro’s shirt.

“Thanks.”

“No problem!” Akira places a small kiss to Goro’s cheek and surveys his work. “I think I get the whole ‘boyfriend sweater’ thing now,” Akira informs him, a now familiar spark of lust entering his steel eyes.

“We both know that now is not the time, Akira,” Goro sighs, rolling his eyes. “We’re trying to look _more_ presentable, not _less_.”

“Oh, right. Opps.”

Not looking the least bit apologetic, Akira takes the sink next to him and the two get to work calming down their erratic strands of hair and bruised lips.

It doesn’t take long for their hair to calm down (with a little help from the water in the tap) and their lips to return to their normal volume and shade. By the time he’s finished making himself look presentable, the uncomfortable tightness in Goro’s pants had already turned to more normal degrees. However, one look at Akira showed that he wasn’t as lucky as Goro in that regard.

“Um… You can go on ahead Goro. I think I need more time to, ah, _take care_ of it.”

Completely understanding the request, Goro wastes no time in leaving the bathroom to allow Akira the time and privacy to do what he needed to do. Hopefully the appearance of one of them would placate the group enough to allow Akira enough time to finish up his business.

“Welcome back, Akechi,” Haru’s soft voice greets him as Goro reseats himself back at the table. “I took the liberty to order you some sake while you were gone. I saw that they had one of my favorite sweet plum sake here and thought you might like it.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Thoroughly touched that Haru had thought of him, Goro accepts the offered cup and takes a tentative sip. He wasn’t the biggest fan of sake, much preferring a nice glass of sweet white wine over dinner, but Haru had been completely right in her judgement. The sweet fruity flavors of plum, blackberry and pear great his tongue in a harmonious mixture. When the sake reaches his throat, Goro is surprised to find the absence of the usual sharp sting of the alcohol.

“Great choice, Haru. This plum sake is very much up my alley in terms of both sweetness and flavor. But I’m curious, what’s the alcohol percentage in this? I can’t seem to taste any.”

Humming in contemplation, Haru looks over the sake bottle. “I believe the percentage to be on the higher end for sakes. Around twenty percent?”

It was _twenty_ percent, and he couldn’t taste anything other than the fruit? That was incredibly dangerous. Goro would have to be careful with how much of this stuff he drank tonight, he still had work tomorrow after all.

Something must have shown negatively on his face, as Haru’s eyes turn downcast and disappointed. “My apologies. I shouldn’t have ordered without your approval.”

“No, no.” Goro grabs the bottle and pours himself another cup before Haru could move it away. “I was just thinking that I shouldn’t drink too much tonight since I have work tomorrow and that I’m disappointed by that fact because it tastes so good.”

Goro and Akira had already worked through their problems about Akira’s ‘big secret’, but the same couldn’t be said about their friends. The tension still lingered hot and heavy in the air. Thinking about it further, Goro was sure that the sake was likely a nice gesture from the table to apologize for all the secrecy.

Goro takes a deep breath, he should probably get this out of the way before things turned sour again.

“Akira and I have already talked it out in the bathroom, but I’m not mad about you guys hiding… whatever it is you’re hiding. We’re all privy to our secrets and you guys aren’t the exception.” Every pair of eye was on him, half of them widening in surprise while the others having unreadable expressions. “So, basically what I’m trying to say is, is that it’s fine for you guys to keep secrets and… um, yeah…”

It isn’t often that Goro is at a loss for words, but it’s even rarer for him to be the center of attention in front of so many people outside of his job. His mind was stuck on repeat, mulling over his words. Goro shifts nervously in his seat as he’s greeted with silence from the group, the only sounds reaching his ears being that of the television hanging overhead and the clinking of glasses in the kitchen.

“You and Akira talked it out?” Haru asks.

He nods.

“And everything is okay?”

Another nod.

“Then that’s great news!” Haru says, clapping her hands together in delight. “We were really worried.”

“Yeah. We were just about ready to beat Ryuji for running his big mouth again and saying unnecessary things,” Ann adds, sending another kick towards said blonde under the table.

“I say we drink to that!” Futaba announces, holding up her juice.

He hears Makoto sigh, her form exasperation incarnate. “Why is the only underage person here suggesting we drink?”

“Because you guys are too cowardly to suggest it!” She leans across the table and jutting her cup out to the middle. “Cheers to a good bathroom talk!”

Confused, Goro follows suit in raising his drink as well to simultaneous cheers from the group. Well, everyone but Makoto that is, which Futaba angrily points out.

“This is a cheer Makoto! Cheer! Cheer! Drink too!”

“I’m not doing a toast for a bathroom talk!” Makoto flushes, embarrassed. “It’s obscene!”

Futaba sticks her tongue out. “Stingy! Party pooper!”

“Mako-chan.” Haru reaches out and places Makoto’s drink in her hand. “How about we do a toast for Akechi and Akira’s continued happiness together instead?”

“Oh! Great idea, Haru!” Ann concurs, a round of mirrored agreement from the table.

This time it was Goro’s turn to flush in embarrassment. “I-I, no! T-there’s no need to do that! It’s okay!”

How was this group able to do these kinds of things with a straight face every time? _And_ without getting embarrassed by it afterwards?

“To Akechi and Akira’s continued happiness together!” Futaba announces, bouncing in her seat and raising her glass once more.

“To Akechi and Akira’s continued happiness together!” Everyone else repeats, completely drowning out Goro’s protests. They clink their glasses together, keeping them in the air and staring at Goro expectantly.

“I’m not-“

Suddenly feeling a presence behind him, Goro freezes in his tracks and snaps his mouth shut. The tension lasts all of a couple seconds until a familiar and comfortable warmth encases Goro’s back and melting away the unease.

“Come on Goro, that’s not how you do a toast. You need to lift your glass.” Feeling his face flush in embarrassment, Goro allows his boyfriend to slide his hand down his biceps and over his hand to jointly raise Goro’s glass together. “To our continued happiness together!”

After several moments, Goro finally relents and repeats the sentence, albeit reluctantly and at a fraction of the volume that Akira had used. This causes the rest of the group to cheer in delight and to down their drinks. Following suit, Akira leans down and lifts up their joined hands to drink out of Goro’s glass and then bringing it to Goro’s lips for him to do the same.

Knowing that he wasn’t going to win this battle, Goro finishes off the glass but not before rolling his eyes towards his very smug boyfriend.

“Happy now?”

“I’m always happy when you’re with me,” Akira responds like the smooth bastard he was.

“Y-you- “

At Goro’s angry sputtering, Akira quickly leans down and steals a small kiss from Goro’s lips before pulling away and reseating himself back at the table. Goro gives him a soft whack to the shoulder in retaliation and steals the sake bottle so Akira couldn’t have any as petty punishment.

Without batting an eye at his boyfriend’s childish antics, Akira orders himself another beer while Goro continues to glower at from his left side. However, the small upturn of Goro’s lips immediately gave him away that he wasn’t as irritated by the turn of events as he let on.

With a few drinks in them, the cheerful atmosphere is back as if the Incident hadn’t ever happened and Goro is internally grateful for it. With how much Akira and his group of friends (and now also Goro’s group of friends) got on his nerves you would think that Goro wouldn’t want anything to do with them, but the odd group had a certain charm to them that drew him in time and time again.

All his life Goro had felt like he needed to put on the perfect face. Be the perfect student. The perfect son. The perfect person. But it was obvious that this group didn’t care about all that. Not only that, but they also actually _liked_ him. Him, the bitchy and grouchy Goro Akechi that had the emotional stability of a pancake.

Which was none whatsoever by the way.

With how Goro was brought up it was hard to remember that he truly did have people who cared about him and not at all caring what Goro could give them in exchange for their love in return. People weren’t margins or numbers on a page for what they were worth to other people. Naoto and Rise had been the first people to teach him that and slowly, over the years, more and more people have been teaching him that same lesson with minimal success.

Glancing at Akira and watching how he positively _glowed_ in the presence of the people he cares about and being genuinely happy to just be around them causes a twinge in Goro’s chest. But it was a good feeling. A feeling that made him feel like the blindfolds over his eyes since his mother’s death are slowly being removed and showing him a world that is something brighter and better than he’s ever experienced before.

And it was all thanks to the man sitting beside him.

As if sensing Goro watching him, Akira turns to greet Goro with a fond smile. The dancer gives him a smile in return as Akira tucks a piece of brown hair behind Goro’s ear and uses his other hand to find Goro’s under the table. Their fingers intertwine and Akira gives his hand three separate squeezes before turning back to their friend’s conversations. Throughout the group drinking session, Akira would periodically give him those same three squeezes as if reminding Goro that he was still paying attention to him during different conversations at the table.

“Hey! Look! They’re doing a news session on the Phantom Thieves!” Ryuji shouts, drawing attention from the rest of the group away from their individual conversations and pointing towards the overhead television screens.

Sure enough the familiar logo of the infamous Phantom Thieves is on screen as well as pictures of the numerous targets the mysterious group has gone after all the years they’ve been in commission.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Goro takes a large sip of his sake and drawing Akira’s attention to himself.

“You alright?”

“Yeah…”

He could tell that Akira didn’t fully believe him, but he didn’t push the issue as the same three squeezes from their intertwined hands reassures Goro from under the table. Try as he might otherwise, Goro could hear every word that came out of the dreaded television screen as the rest of the group gives their full attention to the report.

“Hello everyone and welcome to our Phantom Thieves Special!” The female news caster’s shrill voice announces. “As everyone is surely aware it’s been almost five-years since Phantom Thieves first came onto the scene. In leu of the five-year anniversary, we’ve found it’s time we go back and analyze their first year of activity compared to now!”

“They’ve certainly slowed down the past year or two. Are you sure we’ll have enough material to compare their past deeds to now?” The male announcer points out and getting a laugh out of the audience.

“While that certainly is true, it’s only to be expected as the targets they usually go after are mostly in prison now. Any new potential targets are surely too scared to come out of the woodwork now.”

A cheer from the unseen audience has the two announcers pause until the noise comes back to manageable levels.

“Yes, yes.” The male announcer says, trying to quiet down the crowd. “We, of course, love the Phantom Thieves!” Another cheer. “But is anyone else impressed that the group has been able to keep their identities a secret for almost five years now? As much as I want them to continue their work, I’m also incredibly curious to know who they are. With our only hints being their calling card for the infamous target of Masayoshi Shido, the Phantom Thieves have been incredibly secretive about their identities.”

“And it’s going to stay that way,” Ryuji scoffs into his beer.

“Speaking of Masayoshi Shido, why don’t we start off with him in our anniversary analysis?” The female announcer suggests to a round of agreement from the audience. “He’s, of course, their most famous target to date and has since been deemed the biggest scandal to ever happen in Japan’s political history.”

Wincing, Goro downs another cup of his sake. It seems he really couldn’t catch a break today.

“Hey, Goro, you’re going to break my hand if you keep squeezing it that hard.”

Akira’s voice draws him away from the Special and back towards his flinching boyfriend. Sure enough Goro had Akira’s hand in a vice grip and immediately lets go with a rushed apology.

“Goro, I know you said you were fine, but you’ve been acting weird ever since the Phantom Thief Special started. What’s wrong?” Akira reaches over with his none aching hand and cups Goro’s face. “I’m here if you need it.”

“I…” Goro clears his throat. “Could we turn off the Special?”

Makoto must have also been paying attention to his odd behavior as she gets up from the table when Akira gives a nod her way.

“A lesser than known fact of the Shido case is that Shido had a son staying with him during the time the Phantom Thieves were targeting him!” The female host announces to the shocked gasps of the audience.

“Wow! I never knew Shido had a son!”

“It’s because of the son’s age at the time that his identity and connection to the case were never made public. He was questioned by police after Shido’s confession and was a valuable witness to the case. From what we could find about him, he was apparently made out of wedlock and Shido treated him incredibly poorly while under his care.”

“But Shido was an incredibly prominent figure at the time. How was the existence of a son never made public?”

“It most likely had to do with his son being a bastard. The existence of such a child would have reflected poorly on his political career. We’ve also heard repor-”

The television flashes and the rerun of a popular food review show replaces the Special on screen, but the damage had already been done.

Goro is shaking uncontrollably in his seat as Akira gently turns his head away from the television and towards him instead.

“Goro? Hey, look at me.”

Before Akira could ask him again what was wrong, Goro leans forwards and rests his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder. He takes a deep breath, holds it, and slowly lets it out. Goro could practically feel the eyes boring into him but ignores them for now as he tries to wrangle his breathing back under control.

He feels Akira bring him closer and card his fingers through his hair. “Your apartment isn’t far from here; would you like me to walk you back?”

Goro nods into his boyfriend’s shoulder and Akira gently stands him back up to start the trek back. The rest of the way back to his apartment is a blurry mess, but they somehow make it back without Goro spiraling completely out of control. Akira requests his keys to open his apartment and they stumble inside where Akira immediately wraps him up in a blanket and moves him towards his couch to sit down.

Once situated, Akira moves to head to Goro’s kitchen, but he never gets the chance to as Goro reaches up and forces Akira back down on the couch with him and crawling into his lap. Without missing a beat, Akira wraps his arms around his shivering form and rubs comforting circles into Goro’s back.

They stay like that for what feels like hours until Goro finally manages to calm down his erratic heartbeat and uneven breathing. Goro could feel the sweat on his body like a second skin and groans into Akira’s shoulder.

“I feel like shit.”

Akira huffs out a laugh. “That’s to be expected. Anything I can do to help with that?”

“You’re doing it,” Goro mumbles.

He feels Akira lean back and resituate themselves into a more comfortable position on the couch. “Well, at least I’m doing _something_ right. I feel like such a shitty boyfriend after everything I did wrong at dinner tonight.”

Goro snorts. “If you’re a shitty boyfriend than I’m running away with the Worst Boyfriend in Existence trophy this year.”

“Nope, wrong. That award is going to yours truly.”

A quick couple of smacks to the chest via Goro’s fists has Akira shaking with laugher under him.

“You’re insufferable,” Goro mumbles.

Akira give him a quick peck to the nose. “Love you too babe!”

They fall into silence, Akira continuing to rub circles into his back while Goro plays with a loose strand in his blanket. After around the eighth time of cutting off the circulation to his finger with the thread, Goro lets it drop back onto the blanket and finally decides to face Akira head on.

“I’m Masayoshi Shido’s son.”

He feels Akira immediately stiffen underneath him, his fingers finally stopping their ministrations on his back.

Akira’s face turns sheepish. “I… I kind of figured you had connections to the case. You looked really uneasy when they brought up Shido on the Phantom Thief Special, then when they revealed that he had a son, you got incredibly pale.” Akira confesses and leans forward so that their foreheads bumped together. “But I want you to know that you being his son doesn’t change anything between us. You can’t help who your parents are, and you shouldn’t be defined by their actions.”

Goro lets out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Akira’s… reassurance was nice to hear, but the nagging voice at the back of his head still fought against the kind words. The anxieties that he would turn out just like his father, a cruel and ruthless man, haunted Goro’s every waking moment of everyday. The traumas that he faced under his father’s care, both directly and indirectly caused by Shido, had warped him beyond repair.

Goro knew he as a broken man.

“I…” Hearing his voice break, Goro clears his throat and tries again. “I lived with Shido for about four years. His PR staff found out about my existence when I turned fourteen and, not wanting to cause a PR nightmare, he took me in and tried to groom me into the perfect puppet.” Goro feels tears well up in his eyes as his voice breaks again.

Akira brings him closer and moves to kiss every tear away before they could fall. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to tell me right now, Goro. It’s okay.”

He shakes his head. “I-I want to tell you. I think I need to get this out to someone other than Naoto and Rise.” Goro takes a deep breath, holds it, and slowly lets it out. With his mind more centered, Goro starts again. “Shido found out about my dancing talent a few months after he took me in and enrolled me in this big prestigious dance academy. It was the perfect PR stunt, finding his long-lost son after so many years and culminating him into a talented, handsome, charming, and intelligent little puppet. It would do wonders for Shido’s reputation and image.”

Goro spits the last part out like venom as pure anger overtakes him.

He had been just a child at the time. A child who had lost a mother at a young age and had desperately craved the love from his other parent. He hadn’t deserved any of the cruel fate that had been handed his way. It caused him to be equal parts angry and sad at the loss of his happiness and innocence.

“I’m thankful that the Phantom Thieves targeted him and made sure that slimy bastard got what he deserved, and I have nothing against them, I just…” Goro pauses, his anger slowly dissipating until the familiar helplessness clouds his mind. “Why didn’t they save me sooner?”

He hated how weak he sounded, the first time Goro has ever confessed out loud other than to his therapist about resenting the Phantom Thieves. It was a petty thought. They still put a stop to his father, in the end, but the thoughts of what if lingered over him like a thick and suffocating blanket.

What if the Phantom Thieves had stopped Shido sooner? Would the abuse at the hands of his father never have happened? Would he never have met That Man at the dance academy and, thus, preventing everything that happened while being his student?

Goro didn’t know and likely never would get the answer to these questions. However, one thing remained certain in that it was so much easier to blame a phantom group of people Goro would likely never meet than the very real ghosts of his past.

“Goro…” Focusing back on his boyfriend as Akira’s voice breaks, Goro notices tears threatening to spill from Akira’s eyes as well before being crushed in his embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Goro buries his face into Akira’s shoulder. “For what?” He mutters. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Akira.”

“I-I,” Akira stutters, tightening his hold and looking away. “I’m still sorry; for everything you had to go through.”

“…Thank you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really wanted to get this chapter out before the end of January *sweats*, but that clearly didn't happen. So enjoy this monster of a chapter that I rewrote four separate times!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction, so please have mercy on me. >.<


End file.
